


A Life in Your Shape

by headphoneactors (orphan_account), orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Found Family, Illustrated Fic, Multi, NG+, New Game Plus, Post-Canon Fix-It, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Unrequited Love, platonic intimacy, spoilers for all routes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-09-27 17:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20411458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/headphoneactors, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Alliance has won the war and, as such, a celebration is in order. While her friends rejoice, Byleth  cannot help but feel unfulfilled. There was so much left unsaid, so much she would have done differently knowing what she does now.Sothis gives her one more shot to get right.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> please view horizontally on mobile if the images are giving you problems!

> _“ _ _ I don't need the world to see _
> 
> _ That I've been the best I can be, but _
> 
> _ I don't think I could stand to be _
> 
> _ Where you don't see me”_

How could Byleth possibly begin to celebrate the end of a war she didn’t even know was being fought?

All of Fódlan was overjoyed at the defeat of the Empire. Their vicious campaign had launched the continent into a whirlwind of violence and chaos for five long years. For the people of Fódlan, the ending of the war represented a new beginning over half a decade in the making. For Byleth, who had essentially risen from the dead just a few months prior, the peace was an abrupt and unsatisfying end to a war she could still hardly believe happened at all.

To her, none of this felt real. 

Even as she stood at Claude’s side for the creation of a new, united Fódlan, she couldn’t believe that it was _ over _, just like that. Claude had done his best to tell her about what had transpired in her absence, but she had hardly had time to process her former students’ transgressions before being forced to cut them down at Gronder Field, and Fort Merceus, and Ailell, and Enbarr. Every stronghold they took, every battle they slogged through felt less and less real to Byleth until she was finally, inevitably, driving a sword through Edelgard’s neck in the name of peace.

She should have been happy that such brutal conflict was behind them; after all, as Claude reminded her, Fódlan’s new era was as much her doing as it was his. But as Claude celebrated their victory with lavish parties and heartfelt speeches, she was unable to respond to the revelries with little more than a polite nod. In private, he gushed to her about the hopes he had for their future: about his plans to open Fódlan’s throat and to push for the recognition of Almyra as a nation equal in respect and power to their own. Too much of it went over her head; and as she smiled and agreed with him as best she could, she couldn’t help but think that none of this was what she really wanted.

There was no denying that she loved Claude. He was the most important person in the world to her, and the reality of the future they had carved together stretched before her: decades of blissful marriage, coupled with decades of using their newfound power to correct the wrongs of the leaders before them. They had finally gotten everything that they’d fought for, and yet, she was still unsatisfied.

It was impossible for Claude not to notice her withdrawal, and he asked her with increasing concern to tell him what was going on - but how could she possibly explain that she still expected this entire war to be a dream? That she expected to wake up each morning in the monastery, with her students pestering her about their lost buttons, petty squabbles, mundane tasks, all happy and eager and not _ killing each other _over matters she didn’t understand?

She couldn’t shake the feeling that things should have been different. Above all her other gruesome memories, she lingered the most on the moment she struck down Edelgard. In that instant, she’d known that Edelgard _ could _have been saved had she followed a different path. So much of what she said rang true to Byleth’s ears. But, by the time they faced each other at Enbarr, her death was a necessity to end the war they had both come to despise.

Her obsession with Edelgard’s death followed her into her dreams, where it played over and over. More nights than not, she awoke in a cold sweat in Claude’s arms, shaking with a regret so fierce it threatened to eat her alive. She had never known regret like this, not even when her own father died in front of her. She would have given anything to take it all back. 

Never religious, Byleth began to pray for respite. And one night, she was granted the luxury. 

She closed her eyes that night not to be met with another image of Edelgard’s pleading eyes as she stared up at her former professor, but a vision of a rather different kind. A pitch-black room. A stone throne. A goddess staring back at her. She almost couldn’t believe it.

“I haven’t yet had the chance to offer you my congratulations.” Sothis spoke, and the words fell on Byleth’s ears like a song. “Not to mention my thanks- seeing as you somehow managed to keep yourself alive through all this carnage. You spared me the trouble of rescuing you myself.” She continued, tone as goading as ever. Her soft voice brought Byleth back to her days in the monastery where that sound was a constant presence, and her chest suddenly ached with the urge to return to it. 

Byleth’s mouth felt dry, despite her awareness of being within a dream. “There’s… not much to thank me for,” she admitted, defeatedly. 

“No? I thought you might say so.” Sothis crossed her arms. “You don’t like how things turned out, do you?” At Byleth’s reaction, she continued sharply, “Don’t bother denying it. Our minds are one, after all.”

Byleth squeezed her hands together in front of her. “...Did all those people really need to die?”

“_ All _ those people? It seems to me that you are rather preoccupied with one in particular.” Sothis sighed, leaning back in her throne. Byleth opened her mouth to protest before the goddess cut her off. “Although I will admit, I know what regrets you speak of. There are things that have been bothering me, as well.”

“Is that why you’re here again?”

Sothis scoffed. “I’m _ here again _ because I cannot stomach watching you replay her death in your head anymore! It is difficult for me as well, and if you would wrench yourself from your own thoughts for one second, perhaps you would see that!” Byleth winced as Sothis raised her voice. She had forgotten how much this felt like being scolded by a parent. 

“Regardless,” Sothis slouched back down onto the stone. “There may be a way to remedy this difficult situation we have found ourselves in.” She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, looking bored as ever. “Truthfully, the behavior Seiros exhibited was concerning, to say the least. Whenever did she become so controlling? Surely it is a result of being venerated for so very long. Still…” 

“What exactly are you getting at?” Byleth asked, impatient. She pretended not to see the glare Sothis shot her. 

“Your incompetence truly knows no bounds. Do not make me reconsider if you are capable enough to do this.” 

_ Do what, exactly? _Byleth wanted to scream. Getting any actual information out of Sothis always seemed like jumping through multiple hoops. Hoops that were aflame. 

“I may have a means of placing you back at the beginning of this story.”

Byleth froze. “At… the beginning?” 

Sothis frowned at her, exasperated. “_ Yes _, at the beginning. Before you made any of those choices you regret so dearly.” 

If she could truly go back to before this war had started, perhaps she could prevent it from happening at all. If she could stop all those pointless deaths, all that terrible fighting… perhaps she could prevent her students from having to bury one another.

“Let me be clear: this is a one-way ticket.” Sothis’ voice cut through her thoughts. “I am presenting you with the opportunity to right your wrongs- and admittedly, even some of my own- but this current world will cease to be, seeing as you will no longer inhabit it.” 

Even as Sothis was trying to impart upon her the enormous consequences of this decision, all Byleth could cling to was the chance to make things right. A chance she’d been quite literally praying for. “How… would such a thing be possible?” Sothis had saved her from almost-certain death before, but this seemed like a tall order even for a goddess.

“You are not incorrect in assuming that such a feat would take a massive expenditure of my energy.” She paused, before continuing. “...To do so will mean retrieving my heart from your chest. Our fates will no longer be bound to one another.” Byleth swore she noticed a tinge of sadness in Sothis’ voice. “Your soul will predominantly be mortal. Think long and hard about if relieving yourself of this burden is worth what it will cost.”

“...If you remove yourself from me, then where will you end up?”

“Am I to take that as a sign of your attachment to me?” Sothis smiled for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. “Do not trouble yourself too much. I am simply casting aside the ties binding me to this plane.” 

“I see.” Byleth paused, nervous. She would never fully understand all this goddess business. “It may seem selfish, but… so much of my success was due to the power you lent me. If you are no longer with me, then…” She trailed off, with the memory of shielding Edelgard’s body from those bandits coming unbidden to her mind.

“Spoiled, aren’t you? How did you survive so long without my indispensable guidance?” Sothis jeered. “I would not leave you with nothing. You will retain the ability to reset time in the short-term, though the toll on your body will be much greater.” 

Byleth was almost surprised the goddess agreed to leave her as much as she did. Perhaps she did care for her, after all. “I would be extremely grateful for that.” Then, in an almost-teasing tone, she added, “It would help me feel as though I’m not alone, even if I can’t hear your… _ indispensable guidance _ anymore.”

“Quiet, you.” Sothis chastised instinctively, though her words lacked bite. They had lacked it the entire conversation.

“I had originally planned to give you time to consider, but it seems as though you’ve made your decision. Perhaps you made it long ago, or perhaps it was made for you by another’s choices…”

Byleth swallowed. “If there is a chance that I can make things right, then I feel it is my responsibility to take it. If you are willing, my mind is made up.”

Her footsteps made no noise on the stone steps as Sothis began her descent. “Very well. I will hold true to the belief that this is for the best... I grow bored of such a limiting existence, anyway.” Sothis spoke quietly, and if Byleth didn’t know any better, she would say it almost sounded as if the goddess was attempting to justify it to herself. “It will be entertaining, at least, to watch you fix your mistakes- even if I will miss out on chastising you now and then.” 

“I have faith in your ability to right our wrongs. Make Seiros realize the role she has fallen into in this story. Do not allow her to be the villain.” And she wouldn’t. Byleth leaned forward almost involuntarily as Sothis dipped her hands past Byleth’s skin, grasping for her heart, and she realized suddenly that she had always imagined this being more painful. 

In reality, the sensation was almost soothing. Like a splinter being removed from the flesh- a pain so constant that she had become numb to it, grown to live with it... gone. The goddess reached out to take Byleth’s hands in her own, though the latter felt no touch at all. All Byleth could process was the drum of her own heartbeat, the foreign sensation of her own pulse in her ears. 

“Make it count this time, Byleth.”

And then Byleth could hear no more, see nothing other than blinding white light as she let herself fall backwards into nothing. 

* * *

It was an eternity and a mere moment before Byleth could sense anything. Her limbs felt heavy beside her; her head was pounding. Instinctively, she reached out to the opposite side of the bed, only to be met with a wall. Surprised yet bleary, Byleth blinked open her eyes. There was no one next to her in bed, but someone was trying to speak to her.

“Kid, I said we have to go.” A familiar voice, but not the one she usually heard upon waking up. The room was dim around her- a stark contrast to the bright light which had just enveloped everything. “Finally. I thought I told you we had to be up early today.”

“I…” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, but her vision still hadn’t cleared. Every one of her senses felt overwhelmed. Was that Jeralt? “Where… Uh, what’s today?”

“We have a job in the Kingdom.” Jeralt sighed, tired of explaining what was really a very simple topic. “This is the third time I’ve had to remind you. I’m starting to think you just don’t like getting up early.” 

Something in his words seemed to finally pierce through Byleth’s foggy mind. Being woken up before the crack of dawn to head to a job in the Kingdom, a job that they would ultimately never complete. Before they departed, they were intercepted by-

Byleth shot upright so quickly that even Jeralt was taken aback. The reality of what had occurred coursed through her veins like adrenaline, filling every cell in her body with the absolutely unprecedented realization that _ this had worked _. She was back, this was real, and her father who she had buried was sitting at her bedside.

As her vision adjusted to the darkness, she was able to see her father’s shocked face in perfect clarity – and, surprisingly, felt an almost simultaneous rush of emotion so severe she thought she might weep. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” She finally managed in a tone that didn’t waver too severely, even though it embodied feelings Byleth would never be able to share with him.

Jeralt fixed her with an incredulous expression. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I just-” She struggled for a moment. “I was having those dreams again.”

“About that girl?” Jeralt scoffed. “Those have sure been persistent. Put that aside for now; lingering on distractions is a good way to get yourself killed.”

Byleth wondered idly whether Jeralt would consider them distractions if he knew exactly who she’d been speaking to. If he knew what Byleth had gone through to wake up here again. Knowing Jeralt’s disdain for the church, his opinion likely wouldn't change. “Right. I’ll get ready to leave.”

They agreed to meet outside after Byleth was ready, and that seemed to satisfy Jeralt enough to leave her alone with her racing thoughts. Her heart wouldn’t stop beating so wildly she thought it might burst. Was this normal? She hoped so. This sensation was very new. 

_ Everything _was new, and yet so familiar. Would it have been too much for Sothis to have sent her back one day prior to all of this? Out of the frying pan and into the fire, she supposed. 

She forced herself to pack what few belongings she had before joining her father outside, hanging back from his conversation in order to strain her ears for…

Three sets of pounding footsteps. A shout, followed by a brief moment of disorder. She’d started to worry that they wouldn’t show up at all, but seeing the three of them in front of her… it became clear she wasn’t ready to see them again at all. 

They were so _ young _. 

“What a stroke of luck, meeting you here!” It was his face that her eyes landed on first - how could they not have? Claude spoke in a tone much too relaxed for someone being pursued by a horde of enemies. But then again, Byleth never knew him to be cautious. “We’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”

“I promise that we wouldn’t inconvenience you otherwise, but the situation is rather dire,” Dimitri continued. He seemed much shorter than she remembered. Maybe it was the lack of an enormous cape to bulk out his silhouette. “Bandits attacked us while we were at rest in our camp, and we’ve been separated from the rest of our companions.”

And then, with speech as proper as ever: “We’re hopelessly outnumbered, and we would be most grateful for your assistance.” Edelgard held herself tall, despite the circumstances- both the ones at hand, and the fact that she was the shortest of the three of them.

Jeralt furrowed his brow. “Well, if they followed you all the way to the village, I suppose we have no choice.” He turned to Byleth, expecting a tired and reluctant daughter. “Kid, you up for this?”

Byleth didn’t look at him, her gaze locked on the three house leaders. Her students, her friends; the ones she had a duty to save. “Yes, I’m ready,” Byleth said, then added with a touch of amusement, “It will be easy.”

Jeralt blinked, clearly a bit surprised. “Well then. Lead the way.”

Byleth thought that since she’d fought these foes before, she’d be able to counter their every move. In reality, her new actions prompted different reactions, and their strategy wasn’t quite the same. Regardless, Byleth routed them in minutes, if only because she was able to work perfectly in tandem with her students. She gravitated towards Claude almost involuntarily, and as he took aim at an opponent, she flanked them to give them no room to flee. Byleth could tell by the look in his eyes that he was impressed, even if he didn’t say it. She gave a soft smile back, and tried very hard not to think about how little he truly knew about her.

Byleth cornered the captain with Edelgard at her side; she knocked him flat with a single swing of her axe (it was small and worn, Byleth noted, and lacked any Crest Stones). “I guess that’s settled, then,” Edelgard said, a hint of self-satisfaction bleeding through.

“Not yet,” Byleth muttered. It was to remind herself more than anything. Edelgard opened her mouth to reply, but Byleth hardly looked at her. Edelgard had failed to _ kill _ the bandit leader, and she knew what happened next.

He pulled himself to his feet, slowly, where he thought they couldn’t see. Then, with a shout, launched himself in Edelgard’s direction.

Byleth was at Edelgard’s side in a moment, stepping in front of her and throwing the bandit back with a heavy blow of her sword. Relief washed over her body at successfully blocking the attack. She couldn’t use Divine Pulse this early on- Sothis would’ve had her head. Edelgard stared at the scene in apparent disbelief.

“You may have just saved my life.”

_ Hopefully that’ll turn into a familiar feeling. _Byleth turned to face Edelgard, a smile forming on her face – but when she looked into her light purple eyes, she did not see the young princess she expected. She saw Edelgard in red, fallen and defeated, begging Byleth to end her life before things could get any worse. Involuntarily, Byleth tightened her grip on her sword. 

“Are you alright?”

Byleth blinked, and the vision was gone as quickly as it had come. Edelgard had taken a step forward to better examine her face. “You’re pale, were you struck?” 

“No,” Byleth said, a little too firmly as she pulled herself away from Edelgard’s outstretched hand. “No, no, I just-” The others were coming up behind them now, clamoring to make sure that the two of them were unharmed. “I thought that I saw something.”

“I see. Well, you have my thanks. I’m sure that without your protection, I would have been done for.” She smiled, as if she knew what she was about to say was a little ridiculous. “You know, we could really use someone like you in the Empire.”

Byleth dropped her gaze from Edelgard’s face, and she saw her expression fall ever so slightly. “I’m glad I could protect you.” She said simply. Then, at the risk of revealing anything further, she searched for the safety of her father in the approaching crowd.

If this was her only chance to make things right, she would have to proceed with caution. Any misstep, and things might end up the same as they did before – or even worse. Sothis’s words of warning still rang in her ears, and an odd part of her whole heart ached for the foreign presence it now lacked. She felt horrifyingly alone, surrounded by people that _she _knew who couldn’t truly know her.

The three house leaders spoke together in a tight circle, laughing at something she couldn’t hear. All of it was still painfully surreal, but if they were alive, then there was a chance. A chance at preventing this war from happening, at preventing these three from dying at each other’s hands – and at hers.

Edelgard turned to smile a soft smile at her, albeit more tentatively than before- and Byleth felt her nerves melt into resolve. The goddess herself had blessed her with an opportunity to fix their mistakes; she was not about to squander it. She knew what not to do; she knew who she had to save. Armed with the knowledge of her past life, there was no way she could fail again. All that was left was to perform without error.

This time, she would get it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome to this great big thing that we've concocted! we're both very excited to share this story with you- almost as excited as we are to write it >:)
> 
> this was a chapter mostly dedicated to setting things up, so we hope you'll stick with us, theres plenty more to come. 
> 
> join byleth as she gives the gays (she's gays) everything they want. what could go wrong.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please use horizontal view if the images are giving you trouble on mobile!

> _ “And while you sleep, _
> 
> _ I'll be scared _
> 
> _ So by the time you wake _
> 
> _ I'll be brave” _

* * *

Despite her misgivings, Byleth had a plan. Or at least, the beginnings of one. 

Her first instinct, when presented with the decision, was to ally with Claude. Claude, who she had chosen originally, who had gotten the country through war, who she trusted more than anyone in the world. It took some time for her to come to grips with reality: that, although she knew so much about him, he knew next to nothing about her. 

They had only just met, after all.

The realization was jarring, and she was still taken aback whenever Claude passed her in the hallway with little more than a polite greeting. She couldn’t chase after him this time, though; with her ultimate goal in mind, there was really only one answer to who she could choose. If she wanted to get save Edelgard, she would have to teach the Black Eagle house. 

By the time she had to make her choice official, she was able to say it with very little doubt. Her decision was well-received and, predictably, the Black Eagle students were all in a clamor over their house being the one mysterious new professor had chosen. 

When she introduced herself to her new students, Edelgard stood by with barely concealed happiness. “I am quite glad that it turned out this way, professor,” she said through a demure smile. “I was rather hopeful that I’d get to work with you again.”

Her quiet enthusiasm was eclipsed by Caspar, whose voice was so loud he may as well have been shouting. “Edelgard told us all about how great you were out there, and how you got rid of those bandits like it was nothing. I can’t wait to see how you train!”

“Volume, Caspar,” Linhardt chided. “If you keep yelling, you might scare our new teacher away.” Despite his remarks, he didn’t sound particularly opposed to the idea.

“I have also been impressed with the stories of your battle,” Petra chimed in. “Edelgard has told me much about how you rescued her- I have never seen her in such a state! She would not stop talking about-”

Edelgard made a quiet noise of discontent. “Let us not bring our past conversations into this, please?”

“Oh!” Petra exclaimed. “You are having my apologies.”

Byleth smiled despite herself, and she felt that odd warmth within her grow as Ferdinand butted in to loudly announce, “I am sure that I speak for all of my colleagues when I say we are delighted to have you onboard. Seeing as you are about the same age as us, I hope you do not mind if we treat you as an equal. I, for one, would be rather happy to include you as one of us.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Ferdie,” Dorothea interjected. “Some of us have yet to introduce ourselves properly.” With a slight curtsy, she continued, “My name is Dorothea. It’s a pleasure to meet you, professor!”

That’s right. She wasn’t supposed to know all of their names yet.

Dorothea gestured behind her to indicate the tiny girl who’d stayed quiet throughout the conversation. “And that’s Bernadetta. She’s a bit quiet, but she’s _ legendary _with a bow. Aren’t you, Bernie?”

Bernadetta squeaked in protest at the compliment, however kind Dorothea’s intentions had been. “I wouldn’t really say that…” she muttered. “Um, but it is nice to meet you, professor. I hope I don’t let you down.”

“This group can sometimes be a pain for even Lady Edelgard to handle,” Hubert said, watching Byleth carefully from Edelgard’s side. “I am curious how well you’ll be able to manage them.”

Byleth nodded, a smile still playing on her features. “I guess I’ll just have to do my best.” 

She had almost forgotten how difficult it was to stand in front of a classroom of students who saw her as a stranger. Being a professor was a full-time job, after all, and an exhausting one at that. Once classes began, Byleth found herself facing many late nights and early mornings. Saddled with lesson plans and class schedules, running from training session to training session, Byleth had hardly a moment to spare for the overarching schemes she knew she must be devising - especially not while her students were distracting her for other reasons.

In her joy at getting to teach again, Byleth had forgotten how painful it was to look in the eyes of the people she had helped to kill.

In Byleth’s classroom sat seven faces that had pledged themselves to the Empire, six of which had died for their loyalty. She had tried to spare them, of course – what kind of monster would she be if she didn’t? But due to devotion, honor, love… none of them would join her cause. It was hard to hold her students’ gaze with these thoughts weighing her down; hardest to look in the eyes of Dorothea, the sole survivor of her class, who’d escaped merely because Byleth’s plan to besiege Enbarr did not necessitate her demise.

How had she ever acted so coldly? To Byleth, the mercenary in her memories felt like a different person entirely. Was this what it meant to start over? To be reborn as someone you could hardly recognize?

Without Sothis there to chide her when her thoughts began to run too pessimistically, Byleth often lost herself to overthinking. It didn’t help that she had no one to share her thoughts with; Claude, her typical confidant, considered her little more than a stranger.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Byleth had sat with him and Hilda at breakfast a handful of mornings, but the conversation never grew to more than formalities and lighthearted quips. 

“Still can’t believe you chose Edel over me, prof. We could’ve been great together.” The leader of the Golden Deer winked as he poked at his porridge. 

_ And we _ were _ great together _, Byleth thought through a polite smile. “I’m sure your house will be a worthy opponent next week.”

“You better be ready, I’m cooking up some tactics you won’t believe.”

And that was it, Hilda and Claude would say their goodbyes and head off to train; leaving Byleth sitting alone in the early hours of the morning, unsaid words hanging over her until she lost her appetite.

Comfort came in the form of Edelgard, her dedicated house leader, who would stay by her side when she could and encourage her from afar when she deemed it inappropriate to stand so close. With the first mock battle fast approaching, Byleth forced herself to focus her thoughts on making sure that went smoothly. 

She spent many nights working late at the library studying tactics and battle formations. Edelgard was almost always present, listening intently as Byleth mulled over strategy, but others from her house tagged along from time to time. As the weeks passed, Byleth quickly learned firsthand of the Black Eagles’ hospitality and warmth.

Though the students were initially reluctant to spend their free time poring over old books and even older wars, it wasn’t long before the late-night sessions became a welcome tradition. Bernadetta liked to bring cookies, and, despite how often she belittled her baking skills, they’d always turn out delicious and serve as an effective break from their studies. Linhardt would fall asleep regularly, leaving Caspar to poke him awake so quickly it seemed almost second nature. Ferdinand’s suggestions of (frankly ludicrous) battle tactics would be met with teasing from Dorothea and Hubert, two students who rarely even spoke otherwise. Petra’s tales of happenings in Brigid would captivate the group, even Byleth, with how different everything was, and how interesting it all sounded. 

One night, after a particularly interesting tale, Dorothea had smiled warmly as she suggested the idea of everyone taking a trip to see Petra’s homeland one day- a plan met with mutual enthusiasm from all. 

Moments like these were what kept Byleth grounded, and what motivated her to keep going. She had to remain brave in the face of her worries, for all of them.

* * *

After her first month at the monastery passed in a blur, Byleth promised herself that she would try to devote more attention to her own plans. She was acutely aware of her looming deadline: she could not permit Edelgard to launch her attack at the holy Mausoleum later that year. After Seteth informed her of their monthly mission to dispose of some bandits in a nearby town, she was also reminded of her responsibility to keep her students safe as she brought them into life-or-death scenarios. The feeling was not unfamiliar, but it still brought a flutter of nervousness to her chest.

When she insisted on increasing the workload for everyone in preparation for their first real mission, she faced… mixed reactions.

“You mean _ studying _?” Caspar complained loudly, kicking his chair back onto its two hind legs. Byleth had seen him fall from pulling this stunt at least half a dozen times in the last month. “Why do we have to study if we’re just fighting plain old bandits?”

“Well, for me to guide you effectively, you’ll all need to understand basic tactical configurations. I don’t want any confusion when we’re out on a real battlefield,” Byleth explained. “But don’t worry, I’ll be increasing your training regiment as well.”

“Seriously?” Bernadetta squeaked from the far corner. She had, surprisingly, chosen to attend lectures that day. Byleth was genuinely impressed by the efforts she’d been making to venture outside lately. “But the archery range is always so busy! There are way too many people there watching me shoot, and it makes me mess up!”

“Then I’ll work with you after hours, Bernadetta,” Byleth said simply. “And yes, Linhardt, you’ll be training too,” she added, anticipating his complaint before he could voice it. She really had grown close to them in only a month. Well, a month and five years. “Though I don’t mind working around your schedule as well. Let's start with once a week, okay?”

Linhardt yawned, blinking blearily at her from the back row. “If I must. Though I feel like it wouldn’t be that hard to sit me out of the battle entirely.”

“No, it would be,” Byleth said with a sigh. “You’re our healer, Linhardt. Without you, your classmates would have a hard time beating even the easiest of enemies.”

He shrugged. “Tell them not to get hit.”

“Professor,” Edelgard cut in, as Dorothea smacked Linhardt on the arm behind her. “I don’t mean to question your judgement, nor complain about the workload, but… don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously? From what I’ve heard, these bandits should be no match for our skill level, especially not with you guiding us.”

“Every battle can be dangerous,” Byleth said. “Especially if you’re not coordinated. Trust me, people either get overconfident and rush in without proper support, or they overestimate their skills against an enemy that ends up being more dangerous than expected. I want to make sure that you all are prepared for the first time I send you up against opponents that aren’t using blunted weapons.”

Edelgard nodded. “Very well-put, professor. I apologize for my overconfidence.” 

“No need,” Byleth said, smiling in her direction – smiles seemed to come much easier to her nowadays. “Are there any other questions?”

Petra raised her hand. “When will we depart to the fighting?”

“Not until the end of the month. I’ll probably check up with you all then, to make sure that you’re on the right track.” Petra nodded back at her, and Byleth asked, “Anything else?” When there was no response, she shut her book with a snap. “Alright! I’ll see you all tomorrow, and, Ferdinand- don’t forget we have tutoring today.”

“Of course, professor. I will see you soon.” He said, giving her a quick bow before tailing behind Dorothea as she exited with the majority of the class. 

Edelgard lingered, speaking quietly with Hubert in the front row until he, too, left the room. She approached Byleth’s desk slowly, and Byleth looked up from packing her things to acknowledge her. “Oh, Edelgard. Did you need anything?”

“Not really. I just wanted to thank you.”

Byleth paused with a book halfway in her bag. “For what?”

Edelgard fidgeted slightly with her long hair, a motion that Byleth had come to recognize as one of her nervous habits. “As excited as I am to have you teaching us, I was originally a bit worried about your credentials.” She smiled apologetically, adding, “I know that seems ridiculous, seeing that I owe you my life, but… I was impressed with your skills as a warrior, not as a professor. At least at first.”

She studied Byleth for a moment, and the teacher suddenly felt vulnerable under her gaze. “But you’ve truly risen to the task. I have rarely seen my allies as motivated about schoolwork as they are under your instruction. I know they might not all show it, but I’m positive that they’re thankful as well. They’ve displayed noticeable improvement in just the past few weeks, and I’m sure that they’ll only continue to grow.”

Byleth smiled. It was odd, how much she glowed under Edelgard’s words. “You praise me too much, Edelgard. I’m only doing my job.”

“Yes, but a job well done deserves to be acknowledged.” 

“I suppose it does.” Byleth resumed packing up, trying to make her next few words as casual as she could. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much your form has improved with your axe.” As Edelgard stuttered, obviously caught off guard, Byleth added, “But I’m glad you feel that way. I want to be the best teacher to all of you that I possibly can. So, if you ever feel like you need advice on anything, or if you want to talk… I’ll be there for you.” Maybe a little too on the nose, but Byleth hoped it would get through to her nonetheless.

Edelgard blinked in apparent surprise, and Byleth worried that she might have been too forward. Before she could issue an apology, however, Edelgard said, “I appreciate that, professor. It’s odd, thinking about how close in age we are. Despite our positions, I feel it likely that we might become friends.”

Friends. Byleth’s heart skipped a beat for reasons she didn’t fully understand. “I hope so,” she said, and then added cheekily, “Your Highness.”

“Oh, stop.” Edelgard laughed, the sound ringing out clearly in the empty classroom. “I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.”

Byleth watched her leave, feeling immense satisfaction at how well Edelgard seemed to be getting along with her – and, hidden beneath the surface of her happiness, a weird twisting feeling in her gut that she didn’t want to spend time on. She had little time for distractions, not when everything seemed to be going so well. Whatever this was, she wouldn’t dwell on it. Her primary goal was to prepare her students for their first battle, and nothing more.

* * *

It took until nearly the end of the month for the bandits to be located and cornered in Zanado. Byleth prepared her students to move out the very next day. She felt oddly nervous; despite being in hundreds of battles before as a mercenary and countless more fighting with the Alliance, this one felt… different, somehow. She’d been putting a lot of pressure on herself lately, and perhaps that was why her thoughts had been wandering so often.

The bandits were gathered across a narrow bridge over the depths of the canyon. Byleth and her class approached from the south. The bandits outnumbered them, but only slightly; Byleth was confident that their victory was all but assured. She’d beaten this group before, after all.

“Stay on your guard,” she instructed the party, in direct opposition to her self-assured thoughts. She couldn’t start setting a bad example for them now. “Our attack will be most effective if we split into two groups and approach them from both sides after crossing the bridge.” She assessed the group in front of her, nodding at individuals as she addressed them. “Edelgard, Hubert, Petra, you’re with me; we’ll be approaching from the front. Bernadetta, your goal is to provide supporting fire from as far back as you can reasonably aim. Are you up for that?”

“Um, I think so! I’ll do my best,” Bernadetta said as brightly as she could manage, clutching her bow like a lifeline. She was clearly relieved that she wouldn’t have to be on the front lines.

“Ferdinand, you’ll be leading a charge from the side. Bring Dorothea and Caspar. Linhardt, I want you to hang back behind them – but you have to pay attention so you can step in when I need you to, or when you need to heal them. You guys got that?”

“Of course!” Ferdinand said, nearly glowing with pride. “I highly doubt we will have any problems with ruffians like these.”

Sensing where his enthusiasm might take him, Byleth warned, “Don’t get ahead of us, Ferdinand. Both groups need to strike at the same time for this plan to be in our favor. If we don’t, we’re just splitting ourselves into easier targets.”

“Don’t worry, professor, I’ll keep him in line,” Dorothea said with a wink. She had become rather adept with faith and reason skills in the last few weeks, and Byleth expected her to be nearly as strong a threat as Ferdinand. 

“Alright.” As Byleth glanced them over once more, those unwanted nerves suddenly came back to distract her. When she paused too long to take a steadying breath, Edelgard thankfully stepped in to save her.

“This is our only mission for the month, so let’s be sure to do our house proud,” Edelgard said, every bit the commanding presence that one would expect from the Imperial princess. “And do our professor proud, too,” she added with a smile.

“Alright, enough flattery,” Byleth said, more than a little flustered at the sudden comment. Edelgard seemed almost pleased at her reaction, as if it was the intended consequence. “Let’s get to work.”

She stepped up to take her place beside Edelgard as the rest of the group fell into formation behind them. Fighting their way across the bridge was hardly a challenge; Bernadetta and Petra had picked off half of the combatants before Edelgard or Byleth even got in range to attack.

After a single nod in Ferdinand’s direction, he split off with his comrades to the west, leaving Byleth to lead her half of the group to face the bandits head-on. As the familiar clamor of battle rang up around her, Byleth found herself rather distracted by the unfamiliar sensation of fighting at Edelgard’s side. Wasn’t it odd? To move with her, rather than against her; to fill in the gaps between her heavy axe swings with quick sword jabs or offensive spells. They fit together well, almost as well as her and Claude did, back then – 

“Professor!” Edelgard yelled, and Byleth snapped back to reality to see the princess’s appalled face staring into hers. There was a horrible noise beside her as Hubert dispatched a bandit with a spell; was that what she was so worried about? She _ had _allowed the enemy to get rather close, but…

When she turned her head to look, even Hubert’s attention was elsewhere. From their vantage point, the three of them could see quite clearly through the rock formations what their allies on the other side of the field could not. There were two archers there, waiting to strike – and Dorothea, hanging back to more effectively use her magic, was in range.

Jeralt had always told her that distractions on the battlefield could lead to death. As a child, she always thought that was just something he said to scare her into taking their jobs seriously. But, by now, she had recognized quite clearly that he’d been speaking as a commander. When commanders were distracted, their troops were the ones that paid for it.

Byleth cursed, turning to face these new enemies. What a careless mistake, to not notice them sooner. She was too far out of range to lunge at them, but if she used a spell…? She was, however, altogether too late. Even as her eyes still struggled to make out the hidden opponents, they had already taken aim.

With all the uproar around them, Byleth saw rather than heard what happened next. Ferdinand had turned around at the distant sound of Edelgard’s voice; in an instant, he lunged forward to pull Dorothea behind him. A second later, two arrows imbedded themselves in his chest.

Dorothea yelled something she couldn’t discern, and Edelgard dropped her weapon to start sprinting in their direction, letting loose a string of words Byleth never thought she’d hear royalty say. She hardly got three feet before Byleth regained her senses and pulled at that familiar part inside of her, hidden deep within her chest.

Edelgard’s footsteps abruptly halted; Dorothea’s voice quieted; the world spun rapidly on its axis. Byleth stepped back into the present timeline with the gracefulness of a drunkard – which was a rather new reaction to the use of her godly powers. She almost doubled over with the force of it, drawing Edelgard’s immediate concern.

“Professor?” Edelgard asked, turning away from her current (previous) opponent. Byleth ignored her, her addled mind still trying to puzzle out how to prevent the death she had mere moments to stop.

Petra had her sword out; there was no way she’d be able to switch to her bow in time. “Bernadetta!” Byleth barked, and the archer yelped reflexively. “Behind those rocks, there are two snipers, and–”

Bernadetta turned quickly, taking aim from a considerable distance. Rattled as she was, it would hardly be a surprise if she missed the shot; blissfully, however, she at least caught one man’s arm. The resulting movement grabbed Linhardt’s attention, and he launched a fireball in the bandit’s direction.

Byleth shouted at Dorothea to get out of the second archer’s range, but she had already gotten the idea herself. She swiftly side-stepped the shot taken at her, retaliating with a bolt of lightning that was so bright it was nearly blinding. Byleth nearly collapsed from the relief that washed over her.

Edelgard shoved her opponent away with a heavy kick, hurrying to Byleth’s side. “Professor,” she worried, laying a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Byleth muttered, though she still felt nauseous. There was a sudden blast of dark magic behind her – there went that swordsman she kept forgetting about. “I just feel ill. I can keep fighting.”

Edelgard hardly seemed convinced, but Byleth wrenched herself from her loose grip and pushed onward. The sense of nausea had faded, but it had been replaced with a thousand new worries – was this what it meant to use the power of a goddess without proper support? 

Petra and Caspar ended up taking care of the bandit leader together, and once they did, the few remaining thieves fled into the depths of the canyon. Byleth addressed them all with the thin amount of enthusiasm she could scrape together. “Nice work,” she panted, sweat dripping down her face. “Let’s regroup with the Knights, and make sure that everyone’s wounds are treated.”

“Hardly any of us got hurt at all,” Edelgard said proudly, leaning her axe against the ground. “You did a great job leading us.” Byleth turned her head away.

“Appreciate it,” she said simply, suddenly too tired to worry if her clipped tone would wound Edelgard to hear. “Let’s all get some rest.”

The walk back to the monastery was hardly an hour, but it provided Byleth far too much time to stew in her own thoughts. It wasn’t as though her use of Divine Pulse had caused any lasting damage – after walking it off, Byleth felt little more than the minor aches and scrapes caused by her wounds. But, back then, she’d used Divine Pulse with little consequences other than déjà vu. She could rewind time half a dozen times in the span of a battle, ensuring the fewest injuries or casualties for her troops. If it was this disorienting, she’d hardly be able to use it once or twice without it starting to be a detriment. 

What if that wasn’t enough to save everyone?

Edelgard walked silently beside her the entire journey home, occasionally glancing at her face when she thought Byleth wasn’t looking. Her concern was, on some level, comforting, but Byleth wished bitterly that she would just occupy herself elsewhere. It only made her feel guiltier that Edelgard had so much respect for such an ineffective commander.

* * *

The Black Eagles celebrated their victory with a rather lively dinner in the dining hall that night. Really, the fact that Dedue had cooked the meal was enough cause for celebration - it was an unspoken truth that he was the best cook at the monastery, and the dining hall was always packed whenever word got around of his involvement.

“Our first real victory as a class!” Caspar stood up at the table the Black Eagles all sat together at, grinning from ear to ear. “Those bandits had nothing on us!” As if to demonstrate his good mood to everyone, Caspar took a much-too-large swig from his tankard. 

“We _ have _ had other victories together, Caspar.” Linhardt pat Caspar on the back through his inevitable coughing fit from knocking back an inordinate amount of ale. 

As soon as he could breathe again, the shorter boy added, “Yeah, but we weren’t all together then- our professor only joined us a month ago!” 

“Seriously, the way you spotted those snipers just in time was incredible!” Bernadetta piped up. She seemed a little more confident than usual, but Byleth could likely attribute that to the half-empty mug in her hand.

“I should really be thanking your quick reaction time, Bernadetta! I am not so sure I would have been able to move out of the way of such an attack without your help.” Ferdinand commended loudly. Bernadetta ducked her head, hiding her red cheeks behind another sip of ale. Though Byleth couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, her thoughts were still elsewhere.

Her noticing the snipers wasn’t ‘just in time’ and it wasn’t perfect. Byleth had faltered, and if she was an ordinary tactician without a goddess’s blessing, there would be one less person at this table right now.

She almost didn’t notice Dimitri come up to their table and congratulate them for prevailing against such a serious adversary. All these accolades were beginning to wear on her, especially given how exhausted she still felt from the battle. With the last of her energy, she mustered a convincing smile to the table before excusing herself for the night. She didn’t have much of an appetite anyway.

After retiring to her room, Byleth found it impossible to fall asleep - although, given the day she’d had, she expected nothing less. She had gone back to the beginning of things to prevent this exact feeling of guilt, yet here it was again, bubbling up inside her. Maybe the worst part was that there was no one she could even share her feelings with. She had placed herself back in the middle of everyone she had lost, but it had only made her feel more alone. 

As she lay in bed, she still felt the impulse to look for Claude, _ her _Claude, but her small dormitory bed held only her. There was no way around it. Byleth was in way over her head. For all Jeralt had lectured her about being distracted on the battlefield, this was the worst case of it that she had ever known. 

She wasn’t going to last much longer with this weighing on her. She had to get some help - and, as she lay there in the darkness, the answer that should have been evident to her all along came into clear focus.

In an instant, Byleth was out of bed and onto her feet. Before she could stop herself, she had lit a candle and opened the door to the courtyard, letting in a quiet rush of cool midnight air. 

She knew the route from her room to Claude’s like the back of her hand. The feeling of grass and tile beneath her bare feet was the only thing she had to ground her as she took the path she had taken countless times before. 

Only when she was at his door did she hesitate. With a deep breath and shaking hands, she knocked on the wood twice. He probably wasn’t even awake at whatever hour this was. Byleth hadn’t thought of that before she walked across the monastery in her smallclothes- although truthfully, she couldn’t care less. 

“...Teach?” Suddenly, he was standing in front of her: the door halfway open, Claude halfway dressed. At the sight of him, she lost her grip on everything that she’d been trying so desperately to keep to herself.

Byleth was on him in a second, her wet face buried in his undershirt, her hand pulling him impossibly close. It was selfish of her, to cling to him so desperately, but in that moment, there was nothing in the world she wanted more than his touch.

“I really have to talk to you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was such a blast to write- the battle scene especially. if it isn't already obvious, ferdie is a big favorite between the two of us. we have a lot in store for him! 
> 
> things are starting to pick up for byleth- maybe even a little too fast for her liking... but i finally get to push my platonic byleth/claude agenda in the coming chapters >:) 
> 
> we hope you enjoyed! comments are appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please use horizontal view on mobile if the images are giving you trouble!

> _ “And we’re not out of the tunnel yet _
> 
> _ I bet you though there’s an end _
> 
> _ So stay with me _
> 
> _ Hold my hand” _

* * *

As the sun rose over the monastery, a quiet birdsong rang out above the already-building noise and clamor of the marketplace down by the lake. It was well before most students would be awake to begin their days, and earlier even than most staff members would need to be at their posts. In one corner of the student dormitories, sunlight filtered through a curtained window and threw strips of light across the cluttered room in which Claude and Byleth had been having a very long conversation.

“I mean... I don’t even know where to start.” Claude was sitting cross-legged on his bed, next to the nightstand where Byleth’s candle still burned. He’d sat there patient and mostly quiet for hours, allowing Byleth to get through everything that she’d been dying to tell him. “I’d say you were just messing with me, or this was some weird prank you were trying to pull, but something tells me you’re not really the type.”

Byleth laughed a little under her breath, the exhaustion addling her composure. “This would be a pretty bad joke.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Claude scoffed. He had the faint traces of a smile on his lips, even though Byleth couldn’t imagine he was feeling rather happy, given the circumstances. He had been incredibly kind despite everything.

As embarrassing as it was to cry in front of one of her students, the tears and the rawness in her voice must have gotten through to Claude somehow. He seemed reluctant to discount her story entirely, seeing how much Byleth truly believed in what she was saying – even if he couldn’t believe it himself.

“It’s just…” His tone was apologetic as he started again. “It’s impossible. Time travel?”

“Sothis wasn’t content with the turn of events either, so that was her doing.”

“The goddess, right. I’d forgotten about that.” He nodded and sighed, leaning back against the wall. “A goddess living inside you, and the power to reverse time? Seems like an unfair advantage for your house, if you ask me.”

A smile briefly crossed Byleth’s face before she dropped her gaze to a loose thread on the upholstery. She didn’t even know how to begin to explain the situation with Rhea and the church. “You don’t have to worry about that. When she sent me back, she unbound herself from me.”

“Well. That’s reassuring.” Claude drummed his fingers on his legs, very conflicted; although he wanted to give Byleth the benefit of the doubt, that benefit could only stretch so far. The conflict between her impossible story and the sincerity with which she told it threw him for a loop, and for the first time in a long while, he had absolutely no idea how to act.

“I can wrap my head around some of it,” Claude offered her. “The war between Dimitri and Edelgard? Sure. I’ve seen the way those two act at inter-house competitions. The goddess? Okay, maybe I missed the bit in church about her chilling in a human body for a decade or two. What I don’t get is, what about your future was so bad that you had to go back? You’re doing all this to stop the war- but for you, the war had… already been stopped.”

“It took a lot of lives to end it,” Byleth said. The response sounded lame even to her own ears; she really couldn’t drum up an explanation that would justify her throwing away the peace that he earned. She’d been careful enough not to tell him the whole story – she didn’t want to deal with the guilt of telling him that she was selfish enough to throw away everything he won for what she wanted. “It didn’t seem like it was right, I- there were a lot of people that needed to be saved.”

“Is that right?” He studied her intently, perhaps noticing that she had begun to withhold information for the first time so far. “So, you’re doing this for the good of everyone?”

She suddenly wasn’t sure. “It is better for everyone if the war never happens.” She chose her words carefully. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him. 

“For everyone? Even the victors?” He kept his tone carefully nonaggressive, but Byleth still felt like she was rapidly approaching a confrontation. “I’m not disagreeing with you- I’m just wondering what about the aftermath was so bad that you would throw away peace.”

“It wasn’t really peace, it was-” She struggled with her words, remembering war-torn landscapes and week-long meetings about power voids and new dangers. Although she didn’t understand everything, she knew that the war hadn’t ended cleanly for any side. She tried again. “Even after the fighting had stopped, Fódlan was a wreck. Both Dimitri and Edelgard were _ dead _, Claude, and their countries were in shambles, trying to find new leadership. The casualties on both sides were horrifying.”

Claude considered her words carefully. He was quiet for too long, quiet long enough for her to realize that she’d said too much. Calmly, Claude asked her: “Remind me again who won this war?”

“It-” Byleth froze, knowing she was caught. “I mean- we did.”

Claude raised his eyebrows. “We?”

“You and me. The Alliance.” 

“Ah. See, _ now _ I get why you came to me.” He paused. “I was confused about why on earth you’d choose to tell me over anyone else.”

Byleth’s throat felt tight. “I... can’t do this alone. I thought I might be able to, but I am in _ way _ over my head and... I trust you more than anyone else.” The intensity in Claude’s eyes was something Byleth had never seen before.

“Teach…” and Byleth knew what was coming before the words left his mouth. “...you understand that I’m not the person you used to know, right?” His tone was a fragile mixture of anger and dejection. 

“Yes. I know that,” was all Byleth could muster. In reality, the mental separation of her husband and the man in front of her now was going to take some time. Claude sighed and Byleth realized exactly how uncomfortable this all was for him. She wished she had thought this through before bolting across the monastery in the middle of the night and sobbing wordlessly into his shoulder. 

“So,” Claude began again. “That means that last time, you chose to teach the Golden Deer.” It was a statement, not a question. He was quiet for just a moment longer, and Byleth might as well have been able to hear him thinking through the implications. “It was me, you and the Alliance against the entire continent, apparently- and we won.” 

Byleth folded her legs to her chest in the chair to appear smaller. 

“Was our victory not good enough for you?” 

At his words, she felt all the color drain from her face. “Claude,” Byleth began, but the other cut her off. 

“Look, I see where you’re coming from, I do.” His tone eased up a bit as he spoke, but Byleth was still frozen, her heart beating a mile a minute. “Teach, war leaves you with regrets, no matter how it shakes out. You get unnecessary bloodshed, you get enough guilt that you could drown in it- and you never get a clean victory. But, in the end, if the result seems even remotely better than it did when you began… then you learn to live with yourself.”

Byleth stared at her hands, laid limply in her lap. “But I _ couldn’t _live with myself.”

“Edelgard started the war, not you. Why do you see this as your responsibility?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. At her silence, he continued. 

“Again, I don’t even know if I believe all this could have actually happened.” Then, after a weighted pause, “I’m not sure I want to believe it- because I don’t want to think you could be that selfish. Forgive me.”

Byleth hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. She could find no words to disagree with him.

“Sorry, prof. If all this is true… then I don’t agree with your decision.”

Her hands were shaking. “I understand.” The idea of using Divine Pulse to reset back to the beginning of the night crossed her mind for a second. 

Claude let out a heavy sigh as he leaned forward on the bed. “That said, thank you for confiding in me. I’m not about to leave you hanging, but I hope you’ll understand if I take a few days to mull it all over.”

Byleth nodded, still feeling slightly numb. She was far from satisfied, but she knew she would have to yield for tonight. “If it’s possible, please keep this between us.”

He held her gaze, looking a thousand times calmer than she felt. “You have my word.”

She left his room shortly after dawn, and as she wandered back to her own dormitory, she felt somewhat like a walking corpse. It wasn’t just that things hadn’t gone as she planned with Claude; perhaps that was her fault, for treating him like the man she’d spent so much of her life with. But what he said stuck with her, even after she collapsed back into her own bed to sleep off the exhaustion. She felt so strongly when Sothis offered her this chance that it was her duty to take it. But, was it really the right thing to do?

* * *

She slept through her classes that day, prompting a rather distressing wake-up from the handful of students who were concerned for her and actually disappointed in her cancelled lectures. After that, the next few days passed in relative normalcy. Byleth distracted herself from her anxiety by training more than usual. She was still concerned about the toll that Divine Pulse had taken on her earlier, and she had to ensure that she’d be able to protect her students without being forced to use it.

The week passed quickly once she threw herself into her work. She trained with Hubert, then Ferdinand, then Petra; following that, she tracked Linhardt down and attempted to scold him for missing their training session (though she felt she had very little ground to stand on, given that she’d just slept through her own lessons). Wednesday was Caspar and Bernadetta; Thursday was Dorothea. As she waited in the training grounds for her latest charge, she noted with pleasure that keeping herself busy had helped get her mind away from the conversation with Claude. She was in a far better mood now than she was a few days ago.

“Hey, professor!” Dorothea waved at Byleth from across the training ground; as she ran up to her, Byleth couldn’t help but notice the weapon strapped to her hip.

“You want to try swords?” 

Dorothea grinned. “If you don’t mind. I was thinking, it’d be good to have an option other than magic, you know? Edie got me a sword a while ago, just so I could have one in battle, but I hardly know how to use it.”

Byleth thought it was rather sweet that Edelgard had done her diligence in providing weapons for the class, even though that was supposed to be the teacher’s job. “That’s fine with me. I already checked your progress on faith and reason last week, and you were doing extremely well.”

“Great!” Dorothea snatched the practice sword from her belt, gripping it in _ almost _ the right way.

Byleth smiled at her enthusiasm. “Let me grab my own, and I’ll show you the correct stances.”

She passed Sylvain and Felix as she approached the weapon rack, chattering on about whatever girl Sylvain had managed to get a date with most recently. She smiled politely at both of them in greeting, and Sylvain grinned back, dropping his arm from around Felix’s shoulders to wave at her. “Hey, professor! What brings you here?”

“She’s training with her student, idiot.” Felix shoved a wooden sword into Sylvain’s stomach so hard he winced, though his smile didn’t falter. Then, to Byleth: “Excuse him.”

Byleth laughed. “No worries. Seems like Dimitri’s got you on a strict training regiment.”

“No, just Felix. It’s all he ever does, and I do my job as a friend by making sure he isn’t too bored out here.” Sylvain winked to no one in particular. 

“I see, that’s kind of you.” Byleth smiled, amused as she watched Felix grow more and more uncomfortable and less and less able to interject. 

“I don’t… ask you to come,” Felix muttered through clenched teeth. Sylvain shot him a grin.

“No, but I can see in your eyes that you’re desperate for my company,” Sylvain replied, obviously not afraid of the physical detriment that would befall him if he kept talking. 

Byleth took her own weapon and left them to their devices, their resultant bickering slowly fading away as she returned to Dorothea. She took her place next to her student, moving her feet wider apart into the correct stance for someone of her and Dorothea’s stature. 

She’d always felt rather comfortable around Dorothea, seeing as the singer treated her as nothing less than a friend, and conversation flowed between them rather easily. “So,” she said, watching as Dorothea copied the pose almost perfectly. “How did that song you were working on turn out?”

“Which one?”

“Last time we met, you said you were working on a song for someone…”

Dorothea scoffed. “Oh, _ that _ one.” She shrugged a shoulder, taking a few practice swings once Byleth indicated for her to test it out. “I never finished it. The guy didn’t deserve a minute more of my time, much less an original composition.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Oh, not really.” She laughed, seeming genuinely unbothered by the whole affair. “I don’t know what I expect, going on dates with those sorts of noblemen. They all end the same way.”

Sylvain and Felix took up position somewhere to Byleth’s left, farther from the practice dummies; their spars provided some background noise to the conversation. Byleth switched to a new stance. “Maybe it’s not my place to say, but maybe you could try… _ not _ going on dates with them anymore?”

“I could,” Dorothea acknowledged. “But where’s the fun in that? A girl needs a little romance in her life, you know?”

Byleth couldn’t really relate. “I suppose so.”

“What, you don’t agree?” Dorothea furrowed her brow, switching her grip around before resuming, “I would think that a mysterious mercenary like yourself would have a rich romantic history. Long-distance relationships, or maybe fleeting connections with people you meet between jobs, or…”

“Dorothea,” Byleth scolded, “Focus on the dummy, please, and not my dates.”

“Sorry!” Dorothea laughed, not seeming sorry in the slightest. “I get if you don’t want to talk about it, but… am I wrong?”

Byleth sighed. She’d let her own sword fall to her side, confident enough by now that Dorothea knew how to stand on her own. “Yes, actually. I don’t have a rich romantic history, or… well, much of a history at all. I’ve only really been in love with one person in my life.” _ And even that was in another timeline, after a year and a half of barely flirting. _

“I see.” Dorothea gave the dummy a good _ thwack _ on the neck. “That’s even more interesting, then! It means you’re a romantic.”

“…Does it?”

“Of course! To have only been with one person, and to have loved them completely...” Dorothea’s smile faltered only slightly as she tightened her grip on the weapon’s handle. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been in love.”

Byleth raised her eyebrows. “Really? All your favorite operas are about love, aren’t they? I’d have thought you a romantic as well.”

“I mean, I guess I am, in the abstract, but… love doesn’t ever end up like in stories, right?” Dorothea’s laugh rang somewhat hollow this time, and as she spun around to face Byleth, it seemed as if she was changing the subject. “Anyway, I think I got the basics down, don’t you? Let’s spar!”

Byleth sighed, raising her sword. “If you insist. I’d think you could use a little more time on the dummies, but…”

“Well, this is more fun!” Dorothea raised her own sword in response, pivoting towards the open floor to give them more room. Byleth nodded at her to make the first move, and she did, lunging forward to strike at her torso. They exchanged their first few blows in silence, Byleth being sure to dodge more than she attacked while Dorothea got used to swinging at a moving target.

“Nice form!” Byleth praised, barely moving out of the way of a strike. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“Well, I have a good teacher.” Dorothea stepped back, throwing up her sword to block one of Byleth’s jabs.

Byleth paused for a moment, trying to think of how to reintroduce the conversation they’d had earlier. Dorothea had wanted to drop it, but as her friend, Byleth felt like she should press the issue further. “So, if you’re not a romantic – why do you go on so many dates?”

Dorothea sighed. “_ This _ again?” She pressed forward with two blows in quick succession, both of which Byleth easily side-stepped. Maybe because she was distracted, Dorothea went on for a bit longer than she probably should have. “Cause it’s fun, I guess. It’s not like there’s no one I like, but it’s just… not who I’m going out with.”

Byleth fell back, a faint grin on her face. “Oh? Is there someone in particular?”

“Not like _ that _ ,” Dorothea insisted. “I just mean that- that I _ have _liked people, before. That I could fall in love if I wanted to.”

“Then why don’t you want to?”

“Because-” she huffed out something between an exerted pant and an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think anyone that I’ve liked is interested in love. So there’s no point in trying.”

They’d gotten close enough to Sylvain and Felix to hear their swords clash; as Dorothea took a break, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, it was clear that their own conversation had been within earshot of the boys, as well.

“I’m wounded,” Sylvain said with an exaggerated frown. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I _ was _ interested in love. In fact, I doubt you’ll ever find a man who loves as much as I do.”

Dorothea snorted, turning to face him instead of her opponent. “Yeah, except it’s spread across half the population. No one girl gets more than a sliver of that love.”

“Untrue!” Sylvain opened his mouth, obviously ready to say more, but he was cut off as Felix jabbed a sword towards his face. 

“Pay attention, dimwit,” Felix snapped. “I would have skewered you just then.”

Sylvain laughed, ignoring the weapon entirely. “Aw, are you jealous? Don’t worry, Feli, there’s plenty of me to go around.”

Felix actually growled at him, lunging forward with a heavy enough strike that Sylvain was forced to retreat, laughing all the while. Dorothea watched the scene impassively, turning back to Byleth with a sigh. 

“Shall we continue?” she asked, raising her sword in the professor’s direction. If Sylvain’s appeals meant anything to her, it was rather hard to see on her face.

Byleth nodded, raising her own weapon in response. Dorothea struck up a new conversation with her, completely ignoring the topic they’d been discussing before, and Byleth let her. Dorothea was a good friend to her, and she’d want to know exactly what the other meant someday, but she didn’t want to pressure her, not when she was hardly qualified to give romantic advice herself.

* * *

Claude’s answer came about a week after their initial conversation, and Byleth couldn’t hide how relieved she was when it finally did. For a while there, she was worried that she’d really messed things up.

It was an odd hour, and the library was empty except for her and the librarian. Byleth sat at a desk on the second floor, tucked away in a secluded alcove in between the aisles of books, slowly scanning lines of an essay that Linhardt had turned in late. The words were nearly impossible to read, and not just due to the dim lighting; she could have sworn that he’d written in this barely legible style on purpose.

She leaned back in her chair, cracking her sore back as she pressed against the hardwood. Goddess, was she exhausted. The practice she had scheduled with Bernadetta had taken twice as long as she’d anticipated because of how shaken the girl had been over the crowds in the shooting grounds. She didn’t fault her, but she had made a mental note to devote time to help Bernie overcome her agoraphobia.

The window behind her was cracked open, and she could hear the low, droning noise of dozens of crickets. The sound was enough to numb her tired mind even further. Before she knew it, Byleth’s head was sliding down into her crossed arms. Well aware of the work she had left, she put up a good fight, but soon enough her eyes slid closed and her thoughts drifted away from her.

All things considered, this had been a pretty okay week. Sure, this was the most sleep-deprived she’d been in a while, but things were looking up. Rhea would probably assign her the mission to quell Lonato’s rebellion in a few days’ time, and they’d deal with that like they had before. Poor Ashe. She wished he didn’t have to go through all this, especially knowing how much it would weigh on him for the rest of his life. 

She dwelled on the thought of how nice it would be to fix everything for everyone. After she had heard Claude’s advice about the topic, she realized how much she had been overestimating her abilities. Byleth was mortal now, and the only thing that separated her from her peers was that she had a better idea of how the future would unfold. That alone wasn’t enough to accomplish everything perfectly, if what had happened with the bandits a month ago was any evidence. She was already doing all that she possibly could to make this timeline go better than the last, and that was all she could ask of herself. 

Maybe it was selfish, but Byleth thought that if she could only save Edelgard and no one else, she would still consider it a success. It wasn’t what she wanted, and it wouldn’t be a very good ending, but she could live with it. She and Edelgard could take care of each other, no matter what happened. If the war started again, despite her efforts, maybe Byleth would just take Edelgard and leave. They could run somewhere away from the fighting and the carnage - stow away on a ship, end up in a completely foreign land, change their names and cut their hair and just leave it all behind.

The image of the small cottage they’d share in some seaside town formed itself clearly in her mind, and she almost fell asleep to it when she felt two hands on her shoulders. Byleth shot up immediately, ready to defend herself from the threat - only to be faced with the dull backdrop of old books, and Claude’s grinning face in front of her.

“Looks like someone hasn’t been getting enough sleep.”

“Claude.” Byleth huffed, trying (and failing) not to look embarrassed. She kept the fact that she almost lobbed a fireball at his face between her and herself. He was lucky she was still new to magic.

Claude laughed as he swung into the seat next to her. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” He was so lax around her, even after all that Byleth had told him. Meanwhile, her nerves were spiking every time he opened his mouth to speak. Absentmindedly, he picked up one of her graded papers and squinted at it. “...Does he write this small on purpose?”

“That’s the current theory, at least.” Byleth pushed her bangs out of her face as she tried to force her heartbeat back to a resting rate. “How are you, Claude?” 

“Not dead. But I’ve thought a lot about what you told me.” 

Byleth sat up straight, instantly awake. “...Listen, Claude, I really would like to apologize for troubling you with my problems like that. It was inappropriate of me.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate the apology.” He coupled a weak smile with a heavy sigh, setting down Linhardt’s essay and turning to face her directly. “Teach… operating under the assumption that what you said is true, I still don’t think what you did was right.” 

Byleth couldn’t say she wasn’t expecting this. A week was a long enough time to run through several worst-case scenarios. “I understand. Please, forget I said anything at all-”

“With that said,” he interrupted, cutting her off before she could apologize too much. “You’ve already made your decision, so I want to help you make the most of this.” Claude smiled at her, and it was genuine, but there was something under it that said he had enjoyed giving her a slight heart attack just then. 

Relief washed over her immediately, and she couldn’t even be mad for how scared he’d made her. “You do?” Byleth’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth as her mind caught up to her body. “I... don’t know what to say. Thank you for placing your trust in me.”

“Hey, you trusted me first, telling me all this stuff.” He crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll take you at your word for now, but I won’t fully believe the ‘predicting the future’ stuff until I see it in action.” 

“Of course.” Byleth smiled, the fact that she now had him on her side still washing over her. The man she trusted so much now trusted her in turn. 

“I do want to make sure you understand one thing, though.” His face had shifted to a more serious expression, his voice ever-so-slightly quieter. “I’m taking a chance on you because I believe that this is a turn of fate. You’re saying we have the chance to make things better and to avoid war- but you need to understand that you’re going to have to make sacrifices. You’re not going to be able to save everyone.”

There was this side of Claude that she had only known him to reveal to her. He was incredibly calculating and cunning, always one step ahead of everyone else- Byleth knew this well. “I only want the best outcome that I can manage.” She spoke with confidence. 

“That _ we _ can manage.” Claude corrected, and Byleth finally realized that she was no longer alone in this undertaking. “We’re in this together, after all. I’ll gladly help- just don’t go trying to take all the credit.” He smirked, his lighter tone returning as he continued. He was never one to be serious for too long.

“Listen, at the end of the day, we both believe in second chances. You’re giving Edelgard one, and I’m willing to give you one. So let’s make it count, yeah?”

Her smile grew. “Yes, alright. I promise that I won’t let you down.”

Their tender moment of understanding was only broken when Claude leaned over and smacked Byleth lightly on the arm. “Now, how about you get some proper rest, before someone who’s more prone to rumors catches you napping.”

“I wasn’t napping.” Byleth protested. “I was just resting my eyes because my students seem to delight in writing so small that it causes me headaches. ”

“Sure, teach.” Claude winked at her. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

She flushed, shoving him and saying in as loud of a tone as she dared, “_ That _ is not my secret!”

It wasn’t exactly the same relationship as she had with Claude before, but it was truly foolish of her to expect that. She wanted to know Claude for who he was, now, in _ this _time, and work with him to achieve a better future for them both. When Byleth finally did leave the library (taking those Goddess-forsaken papers with her), she was in rather high spirits. She had high hopes for everything, this time around. Even though he couldn’t understand everything, Claude’s trust had helped her more than he could possibly know.

* * *

By the time things with Claude were resolved and Byleth had fallen back into her usual routines, it was almost the end of the month. She expected that Rhea would call on her any moment to go aid the Knights in cleaning up Lonato’s rebellion – and, sure enough, she received the orders within the week.

Since Catherine was such a famous figure within the monastery, the Black Eagles’ excitement at working with her firsthand overshadowed whatever qualms they might have had about having to witness a fight as doomed as Lonato’s rebellion – or at least, it did for most of them.

As they prepared to move out, Byleth noticed that Hubert and Edelgard were speaking privately a lot more often, and, although she was loath to insert herself into their conversations, she felt like she had a pretty good idea what they were talking about. Rhea sent the class on this mission to set an example, so that the students knew what swift and merciless justice awaited those who were foolish enough to plot against her. She had to imagine it would raise a few red flags.

Byleth spent most of her time during their journey with Catherine, who peppered her with non-stop questions about Jeralt’s personal life. Given the extreme methods her father often employed to keep personal information to himself, Byleth couldn’t really blame her. However, once they got closer to their destination, Catherine was forced to move ahead to lead the troops more effectively – and Byleth fell back to walk beside Edelgard and Hubert, instead.

“Something on your mind, professor?” Hubert asked, staring at her intensely – he always seemed to be doing that, it seemed.

“Maybe.” In all honesty, there was a lot on her mind. Rhea’s instructions this month had brought her attention back to what Sothis had told her, all those weeks ago. The goddess had told her that Rhea’s behavior was concerning, that she’d gotten too used to being praised and revered… and after seeing how quickly Rhea acted to destroy a rebellion that posed her no real threat, Byleth was starting to believe her. “I was just wondering… why is Lonato doing this, if he knows he can’t win?”

Edelgard looked somewhat surprised. “That’s what we were thinking, as well. Surely, Lord Lonato knows that he’s hopelessly outmatched. He didn’t even get close to the monastery, so it’s not as though he could launch an assassination attempt.”

“Furthermore,” Hubert said. “It’s not like Rhea would send anyone important after him.” Aware of Catherine’s presence at the front of the group, he amended, “Anyone important that he could actually defeat.”

“So he couldn’t be luring anyone out, either.” Byleth nodded. 

“It is puzzling,” Edelgard agreed. “It appears as though he’s given his plot no tactical consideration – and when taking on an enemy as large as the Knights of Seiros, wouldn’t you have to?”

She knew exactly how this rebellion would shake out: Lonato and his militia would ambush them in the middle of the forest in heavy fog, and then Catherine would kill him. His plan wasn’t entirely stupid, but it certainly didn’t work – and, as Byleth thought more about it, she realized that there really were no circumstances under which it _ could _ work. 

“…I suppose he’s not doing it for tactical reasons.” Why it had taken her until the second time around to realize this, she didn’t know; the first time she marched out to face Lonato, she had been far less questioning of the Archbishop’s intentions than she was now. “He’s doing this to make a statement. Not to anyone else, but to himself. He feels like he has to avenge his son’s death, and he doesn’t mind if he dies in the process – in fact, he expects it.” 

Really, at this point, Byleth was just thinking out loud to herself. She was more than a little surprised when Edelgard interrupted her musings by asking her, “How did you know about Lonato’s son?”

“Oh-” She recovered as quickly as she could. “Catherine told me.”

There wasn’t much more time to dwell on the topic; shortly after Byleth spoke, she could see a footsoldier sprinting up to Catherine in the distance. Lonato’s troops surrounded them in moments. The battle went more or less the way she was expecting it to, and they assured an easy victory within the hour. She was rather pleased with herself that she’d gotten away without having to reverse time, even if her thoughts were still preoccupied with the Archbishop.

* * *

That night, she and Claude met privately for the first time since their conversation in the library. Feeling it necessary to speak somewhere less public, the two agreed to meet in Claude’s room again.

Byleth wasn’t really sure what to say to him, at first, but he thankfully carried much of the conversation. He wanted to get more specific details on what caused the war between the Empire and the Kingdom, mostly, and to press her for information on exactly what she intended to do with Edelgard. She could answer the first round of questioning easily enough, but the second…

“I’m not sure. I think… that I want to get her to trust me, so she’ll believe me when I tell her that war isn’t the answer to her grievances.” she said, feeling very suddenly that this was less a plan and more an idealized future.

“I see.” Claude considered her carefully from the other side of the desk; he’d been so diligent, he was actually taking notes in a small leatherbound journal. “And what if she doesn’t believe you?”

She recalled that future she’d dreamed up earlier, where it was just her and Edelgard; she found herself unwilling to meet Claude’s eyes. “…I don’t know.”

The silence that hung between them suddenly seemed heavier than before. “Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?” His tone was so lighthearted it almost seemed forced. “How about you tell me what we’ve got on the horizon? You know, since you know it and all.”

“Right.” She looked at his wall calendar for reference. She’d only just gotten used to seeing the year at the top. “It’s the Rite of Rebirth next month, right? After they find Lonato’s note, they’re going to expect an attack on Rhea, and security will be increased. In the end, it’ll all turn out to just be a distraction for the Western Church to sneak into the Holy Tomb and steal Seiros’ remains.”

“Pretty bold plan.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t work, obviously.” She squinted at nothing in particular, trying to remember exactly what happens next. “The remains of Seiros aren’t in the coffin. It’s the Sword of the Creator, that sword that Nemesis wielded against her, and then-”

A terrifying thought occurred to her. Sothis had taken her heart back from Byleth in order to send her here, and that meant that she didn’t have the Crest of Flames. Without the Crest, she couldn’t use the associated Hero’s Relic… and Rhea was surely planning on it. If she couldn’t wield the Sword of the Creator, would Rhea find out the truth?

Claude waited a few moments for Byleth to finish her sentence, but when it became clear that she’d been lost in thought, he had to prompt her. “…And then?”

“Oh!” She snapped back to reality, giving him a quick apology. “Right, sorry. And then we catch them in the act and take care of them before they’re able to get away with any of the artifacts. No one actually tries to assassinate Rhea, in the end.”

“Gotcha. So, all in all, it shouldn’t be too hard of a month, right?”

“I guess not.”

He tapped his pen against his notebook in a rapid pattern. “So, maybe, if you’re free, we can meet up and talk more about the specifics of this plan of yours. We have to figure out a way to address the church nonviolently, yeah?”

Byleth nodded. “Right. I should have a lot of spare time, now that you mention it, so we can figure out the specifics of our meetings later.” Her heart swelled unexpectedly at the idea of having regular ‘meetings’ with Claude – it was a thought that reminded her she wouldn’t be the only one trying to fix things.

“Sounds good.” He snapped his notebook shut and stood up with a yawn, probably intending to get back to bed - it was rather late. “Then I guess we’ll call it quits for the night. I’ll see you later, teach.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” She spoke softly. But on her walk back to her dormitory, she couldn’t shake the worried feeling regarding not possessing a crest anymore. She would have to think up a pretty good excuse to convince Rhea that she was still the enlightened one. 

After bidding Claude goodnight, Byleth stepped outside into the refreshing night air. The weather had been getting rather hot lately, and it was nice to be outside without the sun beating down on her. As she began the short walk back to her dormitory, she realized that someone else must have had the same idea. Someone was standing by the docks, staring out into the lake.

It was Edelgard. Byleth was a bit surprised to see her, and she drew closer, intending to ask her what she was doing up so late; instead, Edelgard spun around rather quickly to face her before she could even get a foot on the docks.

“Oh!” Edelgard considered her with an expression that was surprised, but not disappointed. “I... thought you were someone else.” She shook her head. “Sorry. What are you doing up so late, professor?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Byleth slowly walked forward, wooden boards creaking beneath her. 

“Oh, I was just having some trouble sleeping,” Edelgard said. “And yourself?”

“I was just taking care of some work.” It wasn’t technically a lie.

Edelgard smiled at her. “You always seem to be working. I don’t envy your position… I can only imagine we give you quite a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t mind it,” Byleth replied genuinely. As Edelgard’s smile faded, Byleth stirred up the courage to ask, “Forgive me for prying, but was there a particular reason that you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, not one particular reason. There were several.” Byleth waited patiently for Edelgard to elaborate, watching as the princess stared across the lake towards the distant monastery walls. “That business with Lord Lonato was rather troubling. I wonder, if one of us committed what the Archbishop perceived as a transgression against the church, would she have us executed as well?”

“Are you talking about Lonato, or Christophe?”

“Either, I suppose.” She sighed. “What happened to Lonato was basically an execution, with how many Knights she sent. It just… I can’t help but lament the fates of the commoners who rose to his support. They were slaughtered, too, simply because they believed in what their lord was saying.” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Or, perhaps more likely, because he demanded it.”

Byleth wanted to reassure her that it was unlikely either of them would end up like Lonato, but she knew firsthand how untrue that was; so, instead, she said: “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, to die for what you believe in.”

“Broadly, I would have to agree with you. Dying for a cause is less terrible than dying without one.”

“But it’s worse than not dying at all,” Byleth said, drawing a nod from her companion. A slight breeze in the air had caused ripples in the lake; as the tiny waves lapped at the shore, they made a steady, soothing noise. The two stood there in amicable silence, enjoying it, before Edelgard turned to face Byleth.

“You know,” Edelgard said. “I have to thank you, professor. I know that there’s no easy solution to my worries, so I often hesitate to share them with people. But it has been quite relaxing to speak with you.”

Byleth’s heart was beating loudly again, pattering against her chest. “I enjoy your company as well, Edelgard. I’m glad that I could help, even a little.”

“You _ have _ helped. So much so, in fact, that I believe I may be able to retire to bed now.” Edelgard gave her a warm, genuine smile. “Sleep well, my teacher. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Edelgard left her standing there in front of the lake, gentle breeze ruffling her hair and threatening to dislodge her coat from her shoulders. The cool air made Byleth that much more aware of the burning heat on her cheeks. She allowed herself to stay a moment longer before returning to her own room, oddly preoccupied with the look Edelgard had given her before departing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapter illustrations are my favorite of the bunch so far! the scene with felix and sylvain was definitely a ton of fun, too... i love those dumbasses and its always a joy to get to write them goofing off
> 
> we've got a huge (like... 10k) chapter coming up after this one, and we're very excited for it! as always, thanks for reading! comments are appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

> _ I'm what's left of when we  _
> 
> _ Swam under the moon  _
> 
> _ Now the rest of my days are just  _
> 
> _ Waiting for when  _
> 
> _ You come down and tell me  _
> 
> _ “I was meant for you, baby.”  _

* * *

There were only four weeks until the Rite of Rebirth. Four weeks for Byleth to come up with a satisfactory answer to the questions that Rhea would no doubt have, four weeks to find a way to disguise herself as the host of a goddess that had long since disappeared.

The more she dwelled on the issue, the more she recognized that it would be impossible for her to come up with an answer on her own. So, she asked for help.

“You don’t have the Crest anymore, huh?” Claude tapped his pen to his chin, looking at Byleth’s chest as if he could see through it and find the indent Sothis’s heart had made on her own.

“I mean, I don’t have the goddess’s heart inside me anymore.” They were in one of the monastery’s most isolated common rooms, desperate for a change of scenery from their stuffy bedrooms. “Rhea is going to realize that something’s not right when the Sword of the Creator doesn’t respond to me.”

“Do you think she’ll actually confront you about it?”

“I’d be pretty shocked if she didn’t.” The archbishop might try to play it off, but she would surely be surprised when Byleth showed no evidence of harboring the Crest of Flames. She would probably press her for details, question her about the sword – and, under such intense interrogation, what if Byleth let something slip that she wasn’t supposed to know? She could blow this whole thing to pieces, just like that. She nervously picked a piece of lint off her jacket and rolled it between her fingers. “I’m not sure if I can lie convincingly enough to fool her.”

“Teach.” Claude put his pen down, so confident in his answer that he needed no further planning. “Are you kidding me? This is an easy one.”

“…It is?”

“Of course.” He leaned forward, grinning at her across the desk. “You’re in cahoots with the best liar in the entire monastery.”

* * *

The “investigation” that Byleth conducted into potential targets for the thieves was truly laughable. Even to keep up appearances for Edelgard, Byleth couldn’t stomach spending more than an hour or two during the weekends asking around about valuables in the monastery. She could only hear Hanneman ramble about his priceless manuscripts so many times.

She didn’t need to investigate, obviously. She knew exactly where the attack would be, and it wasn’t hard to get Edelgard on the same page once she dropped enough hints. They took up position outside the Holy Tomb and thwarted the ambush; Byleth rushed forward to take the Sword of the Creator from the enemy’s hand, and… it lay heavy and still in her palms, as cool and lifeless as any hunk of polished stone.

Part of her was disappointed; the sword  _ was _ a powerful weapon, and it would serve her well in battles to come. But… more of her was relieved. Even in that other timeline, the weapon had never felt like her own.

As expected, Rhea was concerned over the events that transpired inside the Holy Tomb. After having the offenders harshly executed, she took Byleth aside to gently interrogate her about the contents of Seiros’s tomb. When asked to give her account, Byleth spoke simply: she had taken back the sword from the thieves and bested them with it, but it appeared to her as another Hero’s Relic, sans a crest stone. 

“It did not react to you in any special way?” Rhea asked, and she might have succeeded in not appearing distraught save for the slightest twitch in her eyebrows. 

“Actually,” Byleth made sure she maintained eye contact while reciting the lines she and Claude had practiced countless times in preparation. “The sword did glow faintly when I first held it, but it hasn’t since then.”

A beat. Rhea’s expression didn’t change. “That sword has not reacted to anyone in centuries. Perhaps you should hold onto it for the time being.”

Byleth shrugged. “If you insist.”

Perhaps there was too little reverence in her tone, because Rhea seemed annoyed for half a second before continuing, “And, perhaps we should have Hanneman run some tests on you, to see if you really do have a crest after all. The sword must have responded to  _ something  _ in you.” 

“...Very well.” She and Claude had not prepared for this part of the exchange, so it was best if she spoke as little as possible.

At first, she was nervous about the tests – surely, her blood would show no trace of a crest stone that didn’t exist. She didn’t have time to talk to Claude beforehand, seeing as Rhea rushed Hanneman’s research as quickly as she could, but she must be able to come up with some answers on her own, right?

As it turned out, she didn’t need to. It seemed Sothis wasn’t done looking out for her just yet – an analysis of Byleth’s blood revealed a definite (if slightly distorted) image of a crest. It wasn’t a crest that Hanneman had ever seen, and he requested more time to research what its true nature might be. Although Rhea already knew the answer, she obliged, calling an audience with Byleth shortly afterward.

“A great power lays dormant in you, professor. I believe that by putting some effort forth, you could awaken its full potential.”

“I hope so,” Byleth said, extremely pleased with how little her voice wavered. “I will do whatever I can to help unravel this mystery.”

She met with Claude that night, sprawled out on the roof of the tallest dormitory. She leaned her head back against the balcony railing as she caught him up to speed on what had happened, unable to suppress the twinkle in her eye at how well she’d deceived the Archbishop. 

“She doesn’t suspect a thing.”

* * *

Byleth anticipated that much of the next month would be spent preparing to fight Miklan at Conand Tower, but when the first of the month passed without any announcement from Rhea, she started to doubt her memory. Was it something else this month? The mock battle, already? Or the attack on the monastery? Thankfully, there was a simpler explanation – Rhea had simply chosen to send the Blue Lion class to face Miklan this time around.

It did make sense to her. The only reason Rhea had originally chosen Byleth to face the group of thieves was because she had the Sword of the Creator, which was powerful enough to outperform any Hero’s Relic; since that was out of commission, it made much more sense to send Sylvain, whose father demanded he clean up their family’s mess. Byleth felt sorry for him, knowing that his and Miklan’s relationship would likely be the topic of many unwanted discussions this month. She thought it might be best to check up on him after it happened to make sure that he was alright.

Rhea met with Byleth a few days into the month to inform her that she and the Black Eagle house had no particular mission this moon. She thought that Byleth might use this time to “better investigate the mysteries of the Sword of the Creator” and “work on unlocking the hidden power inside her”.

Byleth thought it would be a far better use of her month to spend some quality time with her students.

She informed them of the Archbishop’s decision the next day, assuring them that she’d take them on some side missions posted by the Knights or other members of the monastery so that they wouldn’t get out of practice with battle. “After all,” she said with a smile. “We need you all to be in shape for the mock battle coming up.”

“Is that coming so soon?” Petra asked. “I was thinking it was farther away.”

“Well, it’s still more than two months away,” Byleth answered. “But I think it’s best if we get some practice in now while we have the spare time. I had a few ideas of how we could all work better as a team, and I think this month is a good time to start.”

“What did you have in mind, Professor?” Edelgard had perked up at the sound of the mock battle, either excited to assess her rivals’ strengths for her larger goals, or… simply gripped with a competitive spirit.

“Well, for one, I thought it would be better to get some training in with all of us together. You’ve all been doing well at keeping up with individual regiments, but it’s crucial that we learn how to act as a group so that we can account for each other’s strengths and weaknesses.” She paused. “To that end, I’ve also decided to partner you up for battles and training for the next few weeks. It’ll be good for you all to learn how to cover for each other– one person alone is an easy target, but two will at least be able to watch each other’s backs.”

“…You’re implementing the buddy system?” Linhardt didn’t bother raising his hand before commenting, although he did have the courtesy to wait for a break in her speech. “I know that some of my classmates act immaturely at times, but I assure you we’re not schoolchildren.”

“It’s not the buddy system, Linhardt. It’s an effective tool for accounting for each other in battle.”

Nonplussed, Linhardt leaned over to Caspar to whisper audibly: “It’s the buddy system.” Byleth ignored him.

“Regardless,” the professor continued, passing sheets of parchment down the rows. “These are the partner assignments for this month. Next month you will have someone entirely different, so be sure to make your time together count! We’ll meet at the training grounds after lunch.” 

The class broke into chatter immediately. “Dorothea! It seems as though we have been assigned to work together this month!” Ferdinand whipped around in his chair to excitedly face the other, positively beaming.

“...Charmed,” Dorothea replied shortly, shooting Byleth a look of pure betrayal. 

“Um, professor…” Byleth almost didn’t notice Bernadetta in front of her, but the girl had leaned forward to speak to Byleth as discreetly as she could. “I… don’t know if I can pair up with… him…” 

A quick glance at the roster informed Byleth of what she’d forgotten. She had paired Bernadetta with Hubert. She stared for a second at the paper. Why had she paired Bernadetta with Hubert? She reminded herself not to write assignments at midnight again and turned to smile as convincingly as she could at the other girl.

“You and Hubert both specialize in long-ranged attacks, so getting to know each other will help you two provide cover fire for us more effectively.” Byleth fished for an explanation, but Bernadetta still appeared ready to cry. “If there’s really too much of a problem, I will switch the assignments. But give it your best shot, okay?” 

After lunch (and after Byleth took a quick cat nap), the training grounds were abuzz with the commotion of the entire Black Eagle house under one roof- or lack thereof. The late afternoon sun beat down on the outdoor arena, and the midday heat combined with the new training regiment was proving to be a worthy adversary for the class. Byleth pulled her hair up to try and get some relief from the heat and did her rounds, checking on how the pairs were getting along. 

Dorothea was making good progress with her sword training, and it had turned out to be a great decision to pair her with Ferdinand. The two of them had gotten straight to dueling, Ferdinand’s friendly competitive spirit mingling with… well, with Dorothea’s inclination to bash the noble with a stick. The two complimented each other nicely, and they’d surely make a fine team in battle.

Petra practiced shooting under Edelgard’s watchful eye, and Edelgard offered her enough advice that Byleth felt it unnecessary to add anything. She checked to make sure that Bernadetta hadn’t fainted or anything, and the girl was standing as far away from her partner as she possibly could, but still performing well - so that was fine. The only pair she would have to actually supervise was, she noted with very little surprise, Linhardt and Caspar, who were off chattering in the shade. Byleth walked over to calmly ask why they had opted to sit this one out, finding (again to no surprise) that Caspar was the one doing all of the talking.

“I’ve been trying to get him up, but he won’t budge!” Caspar lamented, poking at his sleeping friend. 

Linhardt didn’t move, leaned up against a pillar with his bag underneath his head as a pillow. “It isn’t my fault that I don’t have to train for what my role is. I’m just the healer.” 

Byleth frowned, used to Linhardt’s tactics by now. “That isn’t true. You’re a mage as well, and a skilled one at that! I paired you two together because you’re friends, and I was curious to see how you work together in battle.”

“Well, Caspar engages enemies without any plan, and when he gets done killing the other person, then I heal him,” Linhardt replied. Caspar nodded at Byleth enthusiastically, confirming that this was, in fact, the extent of their tactics. Goddess, she missed the Golden Deer sometimes. 

“Okay. Well, show me what you’ve got.” 

“If you insist.” Linhardt yawned, waving a hand in Caspar’s general direction – he’d still found it unnecessary to open his eyes through this entire exchange. “Caspar, go run into that wall over there so I can heal you for the damage you take.”

“You got it!” Caspar leapt up from his crouching position, and Byleth had to grab his arm to make sure he didn’t actually go off and injure himself. 

“Linhardt,” Byleth said, keeping a grip on Caspar’s forearm.

The mage cracked open one eye. “Yes?”

“Get up and fight me.”

“…I’m sorry?”

Byleth sighed, releasing Caspar and crossing her arms. “I want you and Caspar to fight me, right now. If you win, then I’ll let you off the hook for training for the rest of the day.”

Linhardt was clearly interested. He leaned forward, letting his bag drop from beneath his head. “How about for the rest of the week?”

“Fine.” It’s not like he’d show up in this heat anyway. She turned to Caspar, who was watching with growing excitement. “Is that alright with you, Caspar?”

“It’s more than fine, professor!” He was nearly bouncing on his heels. “I can’t wait to see how we do against you!”

Linhardt got up slowly, stretching out his limbs and rolling out the stiffness in his neck. “Alright, fine. I’ll give this a try, if only because I know neither of you will leave me alone otherwise.”

The three of them moved into the middle of the training fields where there was more space. Byleth took her place several paces away from Linhardt and Caspar, training sword in hand. She’d allowed Linhardt to use offensive spells against her, but warned him against pulling something like, say, a fireball to the face. 

“It’s not as if I wouldn’t heal you afterwards,” he complained, but he agreed nonetheless that he would try his hardest not to incinerate his professor.

Byleth counted to three, observing the position of her opponents. Caspar had, predictably, moved in front of Linhardt to protect him, though she figured that wouldn’t last. If Caspar rushed forward to attack her, she’d have a pretty clear opening to take Linhardt out and at least teach them to pay better attention.

To her surprise, they were a lot more coordinated than she thought. Once she called for them to start, Caspar ran towards her, axe in hand – but he was careful to not let her past him, no matter what. She parried Caspar’s attack and sidestepped, but he followed her with another blow; she threw her weight into an attack, forcing him backwards, and then a gust of wind forced her to fall back before she could get anywhere. Linhardt had quickly realized that he could use his spells to knock up a storm of dust to obscure Byleth’s vision, and while it was clever, she resented him for it.

She and Caspar exchanged blows for a few moments longer, and he grinned, clearly enjoying it; she gave him a tight smile back while trying to figure out how to get past him. Linhardt was supposed to be the easier target here, except… 

Oh. She figured it out.

Byleth leapt forward, feinting another sprint in Linhardt’s direction, and when Caspar moved to block her – that was when Byleth spun on her heel to drive her wooden sword into Caspar’s torso. He staggered back, dropping his axe to his side.

“Aw, bummer,” he whined, looking at the supposedly deadly wound with the same mild disappointment as he would a bug bite.

Byleth had about half a second to enjoy her victory before she was knocked flat on her back with another wind spell; as she fell, she let out a genuinely surprised yelp, followed by an irritated, “Linhardt!”

“What? You didn’t say it was over.”

“Come and heal me, Lin,” Caspar called, pointing to the spot Byleth had ‘stabbed’ him.

“You’re dead,” Linhardt replied calmly. “It’d be a waste of my resources.” He wandered over to Byleth’s side instead, helping her up. He looked a lot less satisfied than Byleth thought he’d be, having just gotten out of working for a week.

“Well, I guess you did get me in the end, though that was a dirty trick.” Byleth brushed debris from her shirt as she continued. “You’re dismissed from training for the day. I’ll see you next week.”

Linhardt hesitated, picking a few nonexistent dust particles from his own uniform. “Actually, I think it might be best for me to stay, after all.” When Byleth looked up in surprise, she swore he looked almost embarrassed as he elaborated, “We didn’t win as a team, so we didn’t really win the duel.”

Caspar grinned, throwing an arm around the taller boy’s shoulders and pulling him down to his height. “Aww, you think we’re a team!”

“We quite literally are a team. The professor assigned it.”

“Still!” Caspar laughed, and Linhardt joined in with a small smile of his own, though it quickly turned into a yawn. Byleth observed the two of them, pride in her students washing away whatever residual bad feelings she had towards Linhardt for getting her jacket dirty.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

She stayed with her students until the sun set, watching as their training became less productive and more conversational. Feeling like they’d made enough progress, Byleth cut their training session a little short and led them all to the dining hall to relax. It was the first meal they’d all had as a group for a while, and as she watched her house explode into excited chatter and thrilling stories, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was where she was meant to be.

* * *

The Blue Lions left for Conand Tower with very little fanfare, reappearing a few days later with little to show besides a recovered relic and solemn expressions. As relieved as Byleth was to not have to take care of that incident herself, she remembered how much it seemed to affect Sylvain before - and she decided it was best that she seek him out.

It was a few days after the battle when she found Sylvain in an isolated part of the Knight’s Hall. It was pouring rain that afternoon, and most of the monastery had opted to delay their training drills to another, drier day. Sylvain was alone, running through very basic lance positions and looking like his mind was anywhere but the present. Byleth walked up to him slowly, approaching visibly so he wouldn’t accidentally strike her.

She retrieved a lance of her own and took up the position adjacent to him. “Not training with Felix today?” 

“Professor.” Sylvain acknowledged her in passing, but returned quickly to his own drills as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Not today. He said he’d give me some time alone, but I’m fine, really-” As if to directly contradict himself, Sylvain slipped on the dirt, prompting Byleth to catch him by his arm. “...Thanks,” he muttered defeatedly. 

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Training isn’t ever productive without Felix.” Sylvain sighed, turning to place his lance back on the rack.

Byleth lay her own lance down in response, taking a seat on the ledge and leaving ample space for him to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” 

“Honestly, professor? I couldn’t care less. My brother got what was coming to him.” He took a seat next to her, running a hand through his hair. “I guess that makes me seem pretty heartless, though, doesn’t it?” When Byleth shook her head, Sylvain hesitated before continuing. 

“If anything,” he scoffed, “it’s fitting that’s how everyone will remember him. It reflects what he always was inside.”

Sylvain turned away from her, emotions flaring, and Byleth felt the need to say what she’d thought about saying all those years ago, when this first played out for her and the Sylvain from the past. He deserved to hear someone say it, at least. 

“Sylvain. You don’t need to feel bad for not feeling bad.” 

At her words, Sylvain turned to face her, surprised. She continued, holding his gaze. “Miklan… wasn’t a good person. The fact that he’s dead doesn’t suddenly erase everything he did to you.” 

Sylvain stared back at Byleth, looking puzzled. “How do you know about my relationship with my brother?” She froze. He hadn’t told her in this timeline. She had been so caught up in consoling him that it slipped her mind.

“Ingrid told me,” Byleth said, perhaps a little too quickly. “She was worried about you, and I offered to listen. It’s not as if it’s uncommon in families like yours.” With relief, she noted that he seemed to accept that explanation at face value, turning to stare off into the distance. She waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts, following his sights to watch the fuzzy monastery lights just visible outside the open doors. It was a few moments before he spoke again.

“I just…” He huffed, frustrated, raking a hand through his bangs again. “I hate having people I don’t even know coddle me so they can feel better about themselves. I don’t care about him, I’ve never  _ once  _ cared! Miklan was a shitty excuse for a brother, and we barely ever talked aside from him threatening my life.” He leaned forward onto his knees, and the emotion in his voice was unlike anything Byleth had heard from him before. “...When I killed him, I felt  _ relieved _ . I knew that I’d never have to hear him blame me for being born ever again.”

Sylvain let his gaze fall on Byleth, and she noted how exhausted his eyes were behind his demure smile. “I guess that makes me a pretty awful person though, huh?”

“It doesn’t have to.” There was another long silence. Byleth just waited, listening to the rain fall heavily on the roof. 

“When you came up to me just now, I was about to tell you off. I didn’t need another person telling me how sorry they were about my brother. But I’m glad I didn’t. I think that aside from Felix, you’re the first person I’ve been able to speak honestly with.”

Byleth sighed, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. “I’m glad that he’s gone,” she said quietly.

“Me too. I can’t tell you how glad I am.” He let out a short laugh despite himself, propping his hands on his knees and rubbing his eyes when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

They were sitting close enough that, if someone walked in, it would seem as though they’d interrupted an intimate moment. But maybe Sylvain deserved that satisfaction. If nothing else, Byleth needed this moment of calm. She kept him company until well after the rain had stopped pelting the monastery grounds, listening to the unexpectedly calming monotony of water spilling through cracks in the ceiling.

* * *

As the month wrapped up, Byleth grew increasingly concerned at what the next few weeks held. Flayn’s kidnapping was beyond stressful the first time, and she couldn’t say she was looking forward to experiencing it all over again. 

“Wait, wait-  _ who’s  _ going to try to kidnap Flayn?” Claude questioned, looking as confused as he did ridiculous hanging upside down from his bed. The two of them had defaulted back to Claude’s bedroom for their meetings for the time being, after too many close calls with soldiers on night patrol. It wasn’t as if they looked entirely innocent ‘prowling around the monastery grounds at night’- as one knight had described the situation.

“They’re an organization called  _ Those Who Slither in the Dark _ . _ ”  _ Byleth sighed, taking a few notes for him in his notebook. “I’ve told you about them before. They have an obsession with bringing back the fell king Nemesis- and they aren’t exactly fond of Rhea.” 

“And are these the ones that Edelgard joins forces with in the war?” As he sat upright again, Byleth was afraid he’d topple over due to the rush of blood from his head. 

“She did, but she was likely forced to. I believe it has something to do with her uncle.”

“The guy she doesn’t have a good relationship with,” Claude affirmed to himself, motioning for Byleth to pass the notebook back over to him. “So, how do you suggest we stop the slippery guys from getting to Flayn?”

“ _ Those Who Slither in the Dark _ , _ ”  _ Byleth corrected, begrudgingly. The look Claude gave her informed her that he wouldn’t ever be saying that phrase in its entirety. “I’ve been trying to puzzle that out for a while, but they’re a huge organization with a lot of influence. As much as I’d like to help Edelgard, I don’t know if there’s much we can do at this point.”

The man across from her frowned, not particularly wanting to take no for an answer- as always. He stared at the small book in his hand, flipping back and forth for a few moments before he replied. “Since she’s already working with them… then the most that we can do is convince her to turn against them, but that may not be safe.” 

“Especially when she  _ is _ still planning to rebel against the church with a war.” 

“Right- but once we convince her that’s not the way to go… then she’ll have no need for them. After that, it’s a small matter of finding and destroying them. We did it once before, right?” 

Small matter was not quite the word Byleth would have used. But Claude kept going as he thought through things aloud. “Maybe we get them to show their true colors to the world. Force them to stop hiding behind other conflicts, cut the strings that they’re pulling at.”

“That could work. They trust Edelgard enough, so we could use that to pull the wool over their eyes and trick them into exposing themselves as everyone’s enemy.” At the idea of being able to free Edelgard from their grasp, Byleth shifted in her seat. 

“Exactly.” Claude smiled in the particular way he always did when he was cooking up a scheme. The corners of Byleth’s own mouth couldn’t help but lift at the sight. It had been difficult for a while, but with Claude on her side, she felt more and more confident with each meeting. 

“We have enough time to think on it, at least. For now, let’s focus on trying to protect Flayn.” Claude nodded in agreement as she continued. “I’ll try to talk to Seteth about keeping a close watch on her, but it’ll be hard to do so without clueing him or Rhea into what will happen.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Claude tapped his fingers on his notebook. “I’ll try and keep an eye on Flayn whenever I can, too. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to join my house for the month, hang out with us in classes. It’ll at least give me a chance to protect her during school days.”

“Sounds good.” Byleth watched Claude peer down into his notebook, no doubt reviewing the events that were to transpire.

“What do they even want her blood for?” A disgusted look painted Claude’s face as he asked. Byleth had no idea whatsoever how to explain; That was a story for another night, most likely. She settled on clueing him in that Flayn possessed a rare major crest of Cethleann (which wasn’t a lie), and Claude seemed to be content with that. 

After a bit more planning on how to keep Flayn safe in the coming days, they adjourned for the night. No sooner had Claude sat down at his desk to study did a knock grace his door again. He breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar sight of pink twintails in the doorway- he wasn’t exactly dressed for more distinguished company. 

“What was  _ that _ all about?” Hilda asked as she slipped by Claude to let herself in, as usual. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Claude feigned innocence as Hilda stretched out onto his bed like it was her own. By the looks of it, she was here to stay, so he sat back down at his desk to try and at least make this conversation a productive one. 

“Don’t play dumb. Do you know how many students here would kill to be in your position?” Hilda twirled her hair as she spoke. “To be able to say that their hot professor hangs out with them alone at night, in their  _ bedroom _ ?”

The way Claude almost felt his face flush was alarming, to say the least. That was very new, and he didn’t particularly care for the questions that it raised. “You know it’s not like that, Hilda.” He seemed more worried about convincing himself of it than her.

“Sure,  _ I  _ know that, but as for everyone else…” Hilda trailed off, hoping and failing to provoke her friend further. When Claude didn’t answer, she moved to peer over his shoulder at his work. “What’s this?”

“Important,” was all he replied with, and Hilda let out an overly-exasperated sigh. 

“What could be more important than paying attention to your best friend?” she whined, but leaned back onto the bed again anyway, absentmindedly picking up the small book laying on the dresser. There were a few short moments of quiet wherein Claude actually regained focus on his essay, then-

“...What on earth is  _ ‘Those who Slither in the Dark’?” _

At this, Claude spun around, eyes wide. He hadn’t ever expected those words to leave her mouth. Hilda had his notebook open, lazily leafing through it as if it didn’t contain some of the most important information in this timeline. He snatched the book from her hands quickly, tucking it safely into his locked desk drawer. 

“...Geez, okay. Could’ve just told me not to read your diary.” She was obviously rattled despite her casual tone.

“Sorry, Hilda. I’m... a little stressed out.” At Claude’s rare distressed tone, she sat up and patted the space on the bed next to her invitingly, giving him a teasing smile.

“What’s got you down? Professor reject your advances?” 

Claude laughed as he took his place next to her on the small bed. “I just have a lot on my plate right now.”

“When don’t you?” she remarked with a roll of her eyes. Claude shifted until his head was in her lap and she was running her fingers absentmindedly through his dark hair. The best thing to do for Claude when he got into these moods was to take his mind off of it until he was ready to talk about it. So, being the good friend that Hilda was, that’s what she did.

“Oh, I almost forgot-- I found this in the kitchen earlier, hidden among the spices.” She dropped a small vial into the other’s hands. “Be more careful where you put these things, please. This is the second time I’ve found one in a place where food is meant to be prepared.”

“Ha! I was wondering where I left this one!” Claude rolled the small vial between his fingers, watching the liquid inside glimmer in the candlelight. “I was of the mindset that some sorry person had mistaken it for a potion and drank it. I’m lucky you found it before Seteth did.” 

“Yeah, you are, but don’t get used to it. If you ended up suspended for a week again, I’d have to find someone else to spend my time with, and that’s  _ so  _ much effort.” 

“Not even Miss Marianne?” His attempt to get her to speak about her crush was met with a slight tug of his hair and a low growl of “So help me-” that was cut off by Claude’s laughter.

“Alright, point taken.” Despite the joking, Claude found himself pressing his face into her hands as she held him. Hilda was just about the most comforting presence he’d ever known, and not being able to tell her all that was on his mind like they usually did was a bit disconcerting. 

Claude stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Eventually, he asked, “Hilda, is there anything you really regret?”

“Other than this conversation? No,” Hilda deadpanned. 

Claude elbowed her lightly. “I’m trying to be serious, Hilda.”

There was only a slight hesitation before she responded. “In all honesty? Not really. You know me. I make peace with the stuff that happens to me and I move on.”

Claude figured that he did know that. Hilda wasn’t the type of person to stop moving forward. Hilda… was more the type of person to find a comfortable place to be and then lay there for a while. “Do  _ you _ have any big regrets?” she asked as she playfully poked at his cheeks. 

“Not to copy your answer, but no, I guess I don’t. I’m kind of happy with where I am. I’m more afraid of making sure I don’t do things now that I’ll regret further down the line.” 

“Mistakes are how you learn, yadda yadda.” It took a lot for Hilda to be sincere or serious, so Claude was used to her nonchalant answers. He didn’t mind it, really - he was just thinking out loud for the most part. He hesitated another moment before speaking again, tone much more serious.

“What if your mistakes are really bad. What if the only way you can fix them is by undoing them completely… is that the right thing to do?”

“Uh, I don’t really get what you mean but, Claude, if you murdered someone, I am not helping you hide the body.” 

“Hilda-”

“Okay, okay! It’s just not like you to get so hung up on hypotheticals. Especially ones this weird. But... if there  _ was  _ a way to fix mistakes like that… then it’d have to be something really big, right?” 

“Do you think it’s worth it just to save one person?” Lucky for him, she answered without questioning it too much. “Just one person? They’d have to be pretty special, and they’d have to have messed up  _ pretty  _ bad.” 

She scoffed. “In other words, not you.” She leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead before forcing him off of her. 

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Claude laughed, Hilda’s affection pulling him out of his own mind for now. 

“Always assume it’s ‘or not’, dear Claude.” 

They spent the rest of the night in and out of menial conversations and catching each other up on monastery gossip. When Hilda eventually fell asleep in his bed, Claude kept working at his essay to little avail. Ultimately, he too retired to the embrace of the pillows, collapsing next to his friend as the sun came up. 

His thoughts were on Byleth as he drifted off; they usually were nowadays. The promise he had made to her was sincere, and despite his initial uncertainty, he could say with almost complete confidence that he believed her by now. The evidence was too obvious to ignore. He had plenty of plans for how he could use her to achieve his own goals, but for now, he settled for relaxing fully next to his best friend, essay be damned.

* * *

Claude wasn’t the only one who couldn’t catch a break. On her walk back to her dormitory after their meeting, Byleth ran into none other than Dimitri. She had no ill feelings towards the prince, but it had been a rather long day, and Byleth wasn’t looking forward to another round of social interaction.

“Professor.” Dimitri tried and failed to hide his surprise. “You’re so quiet, I nearly mistook you for a ghost.” 

“Good evening, Dimitri.” Offering up the warmest smile her sleep-deprived body could muster, she paused by the side of the path to let him catch up to her. “I would chastise you for being out late, but it appears that I’m guilty of the same.”

“That is quite alright.” As he got closer, she could tell that he looked a bit worse for wear. “Please excuse my disheveled appearance - I was lending a hand to the Knights with preparations for the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion.” 

“No worries. I’m just coming back from a tutoring session that ran a bit long,” she lied, not giving him a chance to ask.

“I see.” He brushed some dirt off of his jacket, only getting the slightest percentage of it to flake away. “Would you do me the pleasure of allowing me to walk you back to your quarters, professor?” 

_ No, that’s alright,  _ Byleth thought automatically. Aloud, she said, “That would be very kind of you.” Curse her polite demeanor.

The two fell into step together and continued down the paved path. “The battle between the houses is fast approaching, isn’t it?” Byleth commented after a brief silence. “I imagine you’ve all been training hard.”

“Yes, Felix has actually been a big help with setting up training times and the like. He’s definitely got an aptitude for such things.” Dimitri spoke with clear fondness towards his friends, the slightest of smiles appearing on his face. “Your house must also be giving it their all, if you are out so late.”

“It has been a fairly busy month for us, as well.” She smiled, choosing to ignore his slightly accusatory tone. “I’ve come up with some tactics that I think even Claude would be jealous of.”

“Ah, yes, I  _ have  _ noticed you two growing rather close in the past few months. It almost makes me worry that I’m going to be outnumbered during the mock battle.” Dimitri was clearly joking, but the astute observation gave Byleth a shock of nervousness anyway. No one was supposed to actually  _ notice _ that she and Claude were spending time together.

“Well,” she said, forcing a joking tone. “He and I have a lot in common. But don’t worry, he cares too much about his own house to work strategically with me.”

“I should hope so. Two against one is hardly fair.” 

They walked in silence for a bit, until Byleth figured that the polite thing to do was to at least acknowledge the elephant in the room. “How are all of you holding up after the incident at Conand Tower?” 

“Well, I would like to say that we are all dealing with it in our own ways.” Dimitri stalled in his explanation, taking a minute before continuing, “Professor, if I may speak freely, I was horrified by what we witnessed there. I have been close to House Gautier for a long while, you see, and… I do not think I will be able to forget the battle anytime soon.” 

Byleth was slightly surprised at how candid the prince was being with her. She’d never known him to be particularly emotional, and she wondered idly if maybe Dimitri didn’t have a lot of people to talk to. “I don’t think it would be fair to ask you to push such things from your mind,” Byleth said gently. “If we no longer allowed such horrors to phase us, we would truly lose our humanity.” As the words left her mouth Byleth couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself for achieving such good advice on such little sleep. 

Dimitri seemed genuinely moved by her comment. “That is sound advice, professor. I will take that to heart.”

“...On a lighter note,” the prince continued after a while, “I have noticed a much stronger bond between all of my classmates in the last few days.”

“That’s a good thing.” And she meant it.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “Sylvain has been allowing the others to help him, at least. Felix especially- the two of them are rarely apart. I’m almost jealous.”

The two wandered up the stairs to the dormitory, coming to a stop in front of her door. “I sincerely wish your house the best of luck in the tournament.” Dimitri said with a bow, bidding her goodnight before returning to his own dorm. 

Byleth shut the door after a final wave goodbye, then prepared for bed quickly. She was  _ exhausted _ . She fell asleep before her head even hit the pillow, drifting into a dreamless sleep that ended far too quickly.

* * *

As soon as she was able, she informed Seteth of her concerns regarding Flayn’s safety. She had been worried about seeming suspicious when she did- but, given Seteth’s paternal instincts, it actually wasn’t half as difficult as she thought. Before the new month began, Flayn received a stricter curfew and a larger entourage of guards outside her door. Byleth felt a bit sorry for the girl, especially given how vocally she complained to Seteth about the “unfair” new rules, but she knew it was for the best.

Every day, Byleth awoke on pins and needles, looking for a glimpse of Flayn’s hair in the hallway or out by the fishing pond. For a week into the 9 th moon, it looked as though her gambit had worked. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with it this time, after all.

Then, on the first Monday of the month, Rhea called her in for an emergency meeting.

“As you may have heard,” the archbishop began solemnly, accompanied by a visibly distraught Seteth. “Seteth’s little sister has gone missing.”

As she caught a glimpse of Seteth’s grief-stricken face, Byleth felt an involuntary pang of guilt. She really should have done more to avoid this. The monastery began an investigation in earnest, interrogating every teacher for motives and searching every corner for clues. The last time this happened, it had taken Byleth almost a full week to figure out the culprit. This time, she was ready within three days.

She led the class to Jeritza’s room as quickly as she could, unable to stop a second rush of guilt at seeing Manuela’s stabbed figure. She could have stopped that, too. As Edelgard fussed over the unconscious teacher and ran off to bring her to the infirmary, Byleth felt the full weight of the responsibility she’d chosen. She was supposed to be making things better. Flayn shouldn’t have gone missing at all.

As the class, minus Edelgard, descended the secret passageway into those horrible catacombs, Byleth snapped herself from her thoughts and into the present. As she recalled it, this was not an easy fight. She would have to make sure she was there for her students. 

The secret chambers beneath the monastery were more cramped than she remembered. Her students spilled into the first room, spreading out as best they could in the narrow space. 

“What  _ is  _ this place?” Caspar trailed close behind Byleth, looking around wildly at his confusing surroundings. “Was this always underneath the monastery?”

Petra peered around them, taking in the dim lights and jagged rock walls. “It is confusing me as well. If it is something the church built, it seems rather…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Sinister.”

Byleth couldn’t disagree with her students’ sentiments - she always hated this place. Still, she had to get them focused on their goal. She spun around to address the group at large, catching everyone’s attention.

“Our primary mission is to recover Flayn and get her to safety. We will need to act quickly. I want there to be no risk of further injury to her.” She swallowed, trying to count out groups in her head and pull from her scattered mind the few memories she had of this location. Which way should she send the mages? Would the archers fare poorly in the hallways, or would they excel with a clear line of sight? How many enemies awaited her students after the warp panels? How many could she send through at once?

“Professor,” Hubert said, so sternly she felt  _ she _ was the one being taught. “I hate to rush you, but it seems there is little time to waste.”

“I  _ am _ rather worried about Flayn.” Linhardt glanced around at his surroundings, seeming much more intensely focused on the enemy than usual. “As well as us, to be quite honest. Will you be able to effectively command us in such cramped quarters?”

“No, I won’t.” Byleth took a deep breath, trying to quell her fears. She wanted to rely on Edelgard’s leadership, to allow her to take the lead, but… Edelgard wasn’t there. Her students  _ were _ , and she had to be here for them. Losing herself in the past was no way to start things off. “I won’t be able to lead you, not as closely as I have before. But you’ve all been training for battles like this. Just keep your wits about you and you’ll be okay.”

Her voice gained strength as she went on, falling back on the commands that had come so easily to her lately. “Hubert, Bernadetta, you’ll stay in the more open chamber here. Dorothea, Ferdinand, you’ll be their front line. Get through those gates over there however you can and make your way to the center.”

Dorothea nodded. “Got it.” She edged closer to Ferdinand instinctively, and he was civil enough not to comment on it.

“Caspar and Linhardt will follow me through the warp tiles,” Byleth continued. “Petra, since Edelgard is out, you’re with me, alright?” The hunter gave her an acknowledging nod. “Dorothea and Linhardt, stay alert to what your teammates need so you can heal them without them having to ask you. Stick with your partners, everyone. And– do  _ not _ challenge the Death Knight until we have all reconvened.”

Her voice took on a harsher tone than usual, scaring her class into agreeing with little of their usual sass. She couldn’t help but remember that the last time she’d done this fight, she’d seen Leonie skewered on the Death Knight’s blade for an excruciating few moments before resetting. This was a battle she couldn’t afford to slip up in – especially not with her body’s current rejection of the Goddess’s abilities.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, took a breath, and drew her sword. “Let’s go.”

The warp tiles were more disorienting than she remembered. Byleth stepped through the first one and appeared yards away in a flash of light; stumbling, she put her hand against the wall before stepping forward to allow Petra to follow, only to almost run into an enemy brawler. Byleth threw up her sword to block the first blow, but it was easily swatted away. She winced, bracing for the impact of steel against her armor, but a blur rushed towards her and intercepted the enemy before they had the chance.

Petra pulled her sword from the ground, wiping the blood against her skirt. “Are you alright, professor?”

“Uh- yeah.” Byleth shook her head, still trying to regain her bearings. “How can you move so quickly after going through that? I’m still seeing double.”

Petra gave her a tight smile, the most humor she could muster given the circumstances. “You should try Brigid wine.”

A load groan behind them indicated Caspar had knocked his head against the wall when he’d entered, and Byleth turned back to steady Linhardt before he could make the same mistake.

“…Thanks,” he muttered, holding a hand to his forehead and blinking rapidly.

“It looks like we’ve got several more to go, so we better get used to it.” Byleth rolled back her arm, spotting movement ahead. “…And we’ve got company. Everyone, check for keys when you take them down – we’ll need them for the doors ahead.”

“Keys?” Caspar threw a rather well-timed hand axe in between Petra’s attacks, succeeding in knocking the sword out of another soldier’s hands. “Why would we need keys?”

“The doors are locked,” Byleth said exasperatedly, before realizing his confusion wasn’t about the concept of a locked door, but rather about the fact that Byleth would know that fact before reaching a door at all. “I mean, I would think. It’s common in mercenary missions.”

Caspar seemed to accept this explanation, leaving to push forward with Petra, and only Linhardt lingered to give his professor an odd look. “How often are you breaking into locked places during mercenary missions?”

She huffed, launching a fireball towards an archer that kept making potshots through a hole in the wall. “Focus on the battle, Linhardt.”

The warp tiles led them through a series of narrow hallways, and eventually the group had to move one at a time. Byleth insisted on taking up the lead, no matter what Caspar or Petra said, ensuring that she took the brunt of whatever enemies were ahead. The narrow quarters made it more difficult to fight, but she’d seen worse; despite getting banged up a bit more than she would normally, she was doing fine. 

Above the clang of weapons and shouts of her companions, she had no chance of hearing how her other students were faring, and the thought alarmed her. She could only hope that the other half of her class was doing as well as they were. As she picked through her cloudy memories of the last time she took this battle, she realized that she might have left them the more difficult of the two paths to clear.

The entry chamber was a lot larger than it first appeared, and its shadowy corner hid a seemingly endless amount of enemy reinforcements. The four students left to cross it were making slow but steady progress across the room, with Bernadetta tailing behind and picking off as many enemies as she could manage. Though he despised her slow pace, Hubert stayed in between her and their two companions, unwilling to abandon her entirely. In the professor’s eyes, it would be at least partially his fault if something were to happen to her, and he really didn’t want that. As he split his attention between weakening Ferdinand’s enemies and keeping an eye on their sniper, he noticed that there was at least one mage that had managed to get behind Bernadetta – perhaps he and her had both been too focused on their front line.

The girl squealed, still far too alarmed at the sound of his booming voice despite their weeks of training together. “Yes?” 

There was little time to explain to her what to do, so he simply spun around and blasted the mage behind her. This caused a whole new wave of anxieties in her, which he had no patience to deal with right now. “You have to pay more attention,” he sighed. “Your job isn’t just to watch others. It’ll be more trouble for us if you get picked off because you didn’t notice the enemies right under your nose.”

Her eyes widened. “Yeah, I get that, but um, actually-” Her voice failed her, and she opened and closed her mouth in silence for a moment before lifting her bow. Hubert noticed the soldier’s presence behind him only a split second before Bernadetta shot an arrow through the enemy’s throat, aiming with surprising lethality given the tremor in her fingers.

“I’m really sorry,” she said nervously, as if she regretted interrupting him to save his life. “What was it you were saying? Um, about my strategy?”

“…Forget it.” He fell back a few strides to walk closer to her. “But please do try and keep up with everyone else.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Dorothea had gotten ahead of Ferdinand, and she turned around with alarm when she noticed the gate in front of them all. “It’s locked!”

“Locked?” Ferdinand came over to inspect it, propping his lance against his shoulder. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I  _ mean _ that it’s  _ locked _ ,” Dorothea snapped. “And that means we  _ cannot open it _ .”

“I know what the word means!” Ferdinand protested, pulling at the door. “I only meant- well, never mind.” He put a hand to his chin, considering the situation. “Do you think that I could break through it?”

“With what, your thick head?”

Ferdinand took her comment with no offense. “My lance would be much more effective!” His companion huffed and turned away, eyes running over the two guards they’d dispatched. 

“What if… one of them has the key?” She wrinkled her nose as she said it, clearly unwilling to actually check to see if she was right.

“…Oh. You may be right.” Ferdinand shifted his weight between his feet. He, too, didn’t really want to start poking around among the bodies. “If you would like me to, I suppose that I can...”

He sort of let his words taper off into silence, and the two of them stood there, each staring down at the corpses they were both unwilling to touch. They waited long enough that Bernadetta caught up with them, scurrying quickly to Dorothea’s side; Hubert was not far behind. Looking between the two of them, he sighed, leaned down, and flipped open one of the guard’s jackets.

“You two can stop fussing now,” he said after a moment, holding up a gate key. “I found it.”

“I would not say that we were fussing,” Ferdinand muttered, gesturing to let Dorothea and Bernadetta enter through the gates first. Dorothea gave him a dirty look that let him know ‘ladies first’ wasn’t very much appreciated when they were walking into an enemy camp.

The rooms following the first one were smaller and much less populated; within a few minutes, the four had caught up with their professor outside the deepest part of the chamber. Byleth rushed over to them with a relieved look on her face, scanning them for major injuries. “Oh, good, you all made it. Dorothea, would you take care of Linhardt for me? I think an archer got him.”

Linhardt huffed, turning away from Dorothea’s outstretched hand. “I’ll just take a vulnerary, thanks.”

Ferdinand wandered up to Byleth, who was waiting outside the door to the innermost chamber; he assumed this was where the Death Knight had retreated to with Flayn. “Ah, professor. Is it locked?”

“No. I’m just waiting, because…” Byleth turned to face him, past and present anxieties fusing together. She really wasn’t looking forward to this fight, especially not without the Sword of the Creator. Last time, she hardly scraped out a victory with Divine Pulse – but now? She had half the resources she did then. She swallowed, taking a breath to steady herself. This was for Flayn.

“…Professor?” Ferdinand leaned closer, brows furrowed in concern. She gave him a weak smile and waved him off.

“It’s alright. Once everyone’s healed, we’ll go. We have them cornered, after all.” She sheathed her sword, thinking she might prefer the range of her spells for what came next. 

The Death Knight was waiting for them inside. Of course he was. Byleth dragged her attention from the unconscious body of Flayn to face her enemy, clad in armor that cast a shadow three times her size. She took two steps ahead of her students, motioning for them to stay back. The Death Knight spoke with a smile that wasn’t visible behind his mask.

“…So, we finally meet. I’ve heard so much about you, you know.” He tilted his head, helmet scraping against the rest of his armor. “Aren’t you supposed to have a sword?”

Byleth clenched her fist, flame sprouting up around her fingers. The Death Knight hardly moved, only shifting his massive sword so it was pointed towards her. She took a deep breath, focusing everything on the attack she was about to launch.

Before she could make a move, there was a sudden flash of red light, and a new figure emerged. 

One that Byleth, in her frenzy, had quite frankly forgotten all about. 

“…Halt.” 

The Flame Emperor was taller than Byleth remembered. It had been some time since she’d seen Edelgard in this particular set of armor; poised as she was on the tiles overlooking her party, Byleth thought she might as well be as tall as a god. She felt her heart pounding, fireball fizzling out into sparks that bounced off her knuckles. She had forgotten exactly what she was dealing with when she chose Edelgard.

The Death Knight turned to face his master, grating and distorted voice betraying only the slightest hint of emotion. “You’ve interrupted my game.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to play later,” the Flame Emperor replied coolly. “Your work here is done.” 

The Death Knight inclined his head in her direction. “Understood.” He hardly took another look at Byleth before disappearing in a column of light, so quickly that none of the students had a chance to apprehend him – not that they would. As the Flame Emperor turned her attention to the group, Byleth had to set her feet to prevent taking the backwards step her nerves were screaming at her to take. Behind her, she couldn’t help but notice Dorothea and Ferdinand shuffling back half a foot.

“We will cross paths again.” It was difficult to tell behind the mask, but Byleth was almost certain that the Flame Emperor was only looking at her. Byleth held her gaze, dropping her shaking hands to her side. She didn’t want to fight. “I am the Flame Emperor. It is I who will reforge the world.”

Byleth couldn’t help but be afraid at the imposing presence the Flame Emperor made, but… given who it was, that fear was little more than an instinctual reaction. She cared far too much about Edelgard to be truly afraid of her.

The Flame Emperor seemed to turn away, clearly done issuing her warning. Byleth was shocked by the sudden realization that she didn’t want her to disappear.

She should say something, shouldn’t she?

Byleth took a breath. “If we are to meet again…” It was hardly perceptible, but the Flame Emperor tensed; Byleth, in response, let her whole body relax. “I would like to see you for who you really are.”

A beat. Although she was ready to retreat, Dorothea had crept closer; Byleth knew that if she turned her head, she would see the singer’s appalled face.

“This is who I am,” the Flame Emperor replied. “It is a representation of the choices I have made and the future I wish to create.” She hesitated, and whatever genuineness might have been in her voice was gone, replaced with the cool fierceness she typically adopted in this role. “Do not worry, professor. This is not the last time you and I will meet. I expect you will be learning a lot more about me.”

She turned away, and the exchange was done; Byleth took an involuntary step forward, unarmed hand extending outwards. She had the horrible thought that if she let Edelgard go now, she might not ever catch her again.

Dorothea caught her by the arm, holding her back as the Flame Emperor vanished in her own column of light. “Professor,” Dorothea said, eyes pleading. “He’s gone. We have to go.”

Byleth examined the empty space in front of her, knowing that Dorothea was speaking the truth. “Yes, you’re right.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair, unable to look her friend in the eye. “Let’s get Flayn out of here.”

She saw Edelgard again about half an hour later, after transferring Flayn and Monica to the infirmary. She was fussing over Manuela’s still-unconscious body, and she asked such genuine questions about what had occurred underground that it was almost impossible to believe she had been there to witness it herself.

Byleth allowed her students to do most of the talking for her. She couldn’t keep her gaze away from Edelgard, obsessed with looking into the eyes that she had just hidden away. Did she know that Byleth was telling the truth? That she truly wished to meet the Flame Emperor unmasked, as her true self? Did she know how much she wanted to save her?

There was still time to figure everything out. Enough time to work out how to balance Claude and Rhea and her students, enough time to figure out whatever happy medium existed between war and complacency. But, as Byleth stood there watching Edelgard speak, despite the many factors that typically played into her decisions, Byleth realized one single, undeniable truth.

Above everything, she wanted to give Edelgard a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was a loooooong one- it covers three in-game months, technically! it required a lot of editing and revising, and four (4!!) whole illustrations! thats the most i've ever done for a chapter yet! this chapters been in the works for a while so we're glad to finally release it!
> 
> a few quick notes:  
after this chapter, releases will probably slow down a bit. we're both in college and this fic project is just for fun, so we hope you can understand if it takes a bit longer to get the next chapters out, its not for lack of trying! ;w;
> 
> secondly, after this chapter i'm going to be redesigning byleth's outfit. we've talked it over and decided it'd make us feel more personally attached to her, make the outfit easier and more fun for me to draw, and we just kinda think the canon design sucks a bit! so we hope you'll understand.
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! comments are appreciated <3


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